Carpe Diem
by Onkwehonwe Kashatstenhshera
Summary: A teen runaway gang member, A college student from the hood living a double life, a Yakuza assassin from the East, a psychotic ex con with obscene hobbies, a Gulf War vet returning home & a disgruntled casino worker who is tired of the house always winning carve their way through San Andreas to build empires over the course of 14 years. Who will still be standing in the end?
1. Down For The Neighborhood

_Strawberry, South Central Los Santos_

 _1996_

 _A Bullet Has No Name_

JD Turner and his girl Jana were walking back from a party from their old neighborhood they'd grown up in on 52nd they both had grown up in the neighborhood, they did not live here anymore but they did still keep in touch with old friends. They were both students at the University Of Los Santos. It was spring break and they would be taking a trip down to Cancun, Mexico soon but before they did, they had stopped off at a neighborhood block party. They'd had a good time all though the hood was still pretty rough it wasn't as rough as 92'. JD remembered the riots and the truce between the Families and the Ballas. The truth was, they had grown up in the Orange Grove Families neighborhood off 52nd street but now they were walking past 56th street to catch the bus. The reasoning was ordinarily, JD would have driven them. But Jana's car was in the auto shop and his had been towed by the Davis Impound Lot. He had the funds to get it out and he would need to to get them down to Mexico. But he would not be doing that tonight. Even if it was near the police station, Davis was not safe at night so he would wait until it was day.

Though neither JD or Jana had been involved with any gangs, seeing as they greew up in the hood, some of their friends still represented OGF. At one time, OGF had been part of the Families but over the years they had dropped the Families from their moniker because seemingly every Family hood hated them even Grove Street which had seen its neighborhood controlled by both green raggers and purple raggers at different points, and where OGF was said to have started, hated them. It was all due to the story going around that back in the late 70's the founder of the Families was shot in a drive-by done by a member of OGF. This made them worse than the Ballas in the eyes of most Family hoods and that was saying a lot.

The Ballas were more like a union, moving together as one despite different hoods while the Families were like a confederacy in that they might fight the enemy together but they also fought each other. Still, the Ballas were hated by the Families too as one of the earliest casualties of the war and among the first shot was a gang member named Jesus who was the reason they all wore green bandannas. He'd been killed by the Ballas in 1973.

With Orange Grove, they were enemies with both the Families and Ballas now. He had a homie named Peewee from that gang and Peewee's motto as far as other gangs went was "Only friend to Orange Grove is another Grove," Unlike their predessecors in the Families, the Orange Groves wore orange bandannas rather than green though at one time they had once wore green and orange. This distinguished them from the Ballas in purple and the Families in green. The Orange Groves especially those from 52nd street were considered some of the most violent individuals. Even among older established black gangs they were considered to be worse. JD knew they did bad shit at times but he didn't really consider them bad people. It was just circumstances.

JD himself was a dark skinned black man with curly hair in a fade wearing a dark blue T shirt and baggy blue jeans. Jana was a light brown skinned honey with an almond complexion, bright brown eyes, pouty red lips and straight jet black hair. "I love you..." She said with a smile. He replied, "I'm feeling you like that myself, girl..."

"That aint gonna cut it. Say it, boy..."

"Aight girl, I love you. You know you got it like that...don't even trip."

They heard the sound of loud rap music blasting through the area. A dark green Manana pulled up and a few green clad men driving by took a look at them and chuckled but drove off. He felt nervous. They were members of the Chamberlain Gangster Families. They were bitter enemies of the Orange Groves and while JD was not a gang member but instead a nineteen year old college student, it was still unnerving because it didn't matter if you were actually from a neighborhood in South Central in the sense of being put on. All that seemed to matter was if somebody thought you were from there.

"Man, I'm tireder than a motherfucker...come on baby let's get the fuck home..."

"Alright, let's hurry up, I hate this neighborhood..." She said with a bit of fear in her voice. He agreed. "Niggas be tripping around here...just wanna bang..."

Just then, the Manana was tailing them. Two light skinned black males were inside it. The first was shorter and a bit heavy in size and had a mini Afro with light brown skin and on his cheek for whatever reason he had three dots that were birthmarks but that represented the crazy life the hospital the graveyard and the pen which was odd to see on a black male as usually it was a tattoo often seen on Chicano gangsters affiliated with the South Side car. He wore a black sweater and a Green Corkers cap. His passenger was larger in stature about six one, with a shorter haircut a crew cut under a Feuds cap. He wore a black denim jacket as well. "Hey nigga!" He called out.

"Ah shit..." JD said. Jana warned, "Just keep walking. Don't turn around," She advised. "Hey homeboy!" JD rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Here we go again..."

"Whassup motherfucka?! You and your motherfuckin bitch, whassup?!" Screamed the CGF gangster. "Hey, nigga why you fucking with me?" Demanded JD annoyed.

"FUCK YOU, NIGGA, CAUSE I CAN!" Replied the CGF gang member as he revealed his Beretta and he fired out the window. The round struck JD in the left shoulder. The college student cried out in pain as the hot lead hit his flesh. "AHHHH SHIT!" He screamed. He felt himself losing strength and coordination at the same time hitting the pavement with a thud and a second round hit him in the right side of the chest exiting out of his back through the shoulder. He heard Jana screaming but then suddenly her voice faded out and he wondered if he had gone deaf from the sound of the gunshots and he saw the muzzle flashes a few more times in the darkness lighting up the dark ghetto streets like lightning and just as briefly as lightning as well. He had blood in his mouth tastng the iron as he was weak on the pavement.

He was unable to talk and he saw the car speed off watching the tail lights veer off towards 60th and Flauson. He coughed up blood all over the pavement and to his horror he looked to see Jana on the ground next to him. She had been struck three times in the back and blood was in her mouth as well. "Jd..." She whimpered crying out in a sob. She reached out taking his hand. "Stay with me...!" She begged. He didn't know if she meant don't get up and leave, which he had no intention or ability to do, or if she meant don't die. It broke his heart in two to see that she was more concerned for his well being than her own.

He drifted off as he heard the sound of sirens. He was lifted up by a air of arms though he couldn't tell who. A trickle of blood fell from his lips onto the street as he was carried to a car.

 _Two Weeks Later_

He had been unable to make it to her funeral when it happened. He'd been too fucked up on bed rest. He now stood over her grave with tears rolling down his cheeks. His homeboy O Loc an African American with mahogany skin and short dread locks wearing baggy beige khakis and an orange plaid shirt was there with him. He also had a couple of other homies with him. A dark skinned black man with dreads similar to O Loc, though O Loc was far lighter skinned, was there wearing a black beanie and sunglasses. He had an orange and white plaid shirt. He was known around the hood as Dimebag. He was in his twenties. Next to him was a light skinned black girl with long black hair brown skin indicating partial white ancestry and she wore a blue flannel jacket.

JD put the flowers down at her grave. A picture of Jana's smiling face was inside the headstone. "I can't believe they took her from me..."

O Loc lamented, "Hey, we tried to stop them..." JD looked at him. "What you mean?"

"We saw a car like the one you described roll through the set headed up towards 56th. We was coming ou to warn you two maye we should give ya'll a ride cause they were looking for trouble. It kind of fucked me up cause them CGF marks aint supposed to show their asses this far south of 60th."

He had a 40 with him that he was drinking. "Shit is fucked up, man. I feel you. Jana was my homgirl too, bro. Like a sista to me. She aint deserve to go out like that..."

JD's cheeks were wet with tears. "She told me not to turn around...to just keep walking and I had to go and be stupid. Try and be hard around here...for what?! But they called her a bitch...you gotta stand up for your woman's honor...but I got her killed..."

O Loc was a hardcore dude so when he offered a hug, JD knew it was a big deal. "Hey trust me on this, man. It may not be what you wanted to hear but that motherfucker was probably going to shoot no matter what. In our neighborhood? He was looking for trouble. You know I'm down to help you get these marks..."

"I don't just want that..." JD said. "I'm done with college. I got no use for it. We were there together. We supported each other. We always said we'd get out of the neighborhood and see the world together. She's dead...so the dream is dead. I want to find these niggas and put them in the dirt. But I'ma need protection."

"JD, we been friend how many years, man?"

"All our lives, g."

"And I never once asked you if you was trying to get put on the hood neither did any of the other homies, man. Look here, playboy. You my nigga. I mean that. We're best friends and I say that when you aint even from the set. I don't know if that says a lot about our friendship our little about the homies from the block but either way it don't matter. We could just do that 187 for your girl but this shit aint no joke. This aint a fun life. You just got a taste of the shit and you aint even with the hood."

"Well it's on now. I want in. I'm serious, Loc. Whatever you need me to do..."

"Shit what would your moms say about that, partna?" JD shook his head. "That don't matter I don't even stay with her no more and pops is gone so he aint around to kick my ass for it no way. I want in..."

"Aight homie. Come by 52nd later tonight," Stated Dimebag. "We got you, playboy. I know you hurting and it's always like that but you grew up around here you've lost friends before."

JD nodded. "Yeah I know, homeboy. I'm just saying it don't make it easier besides taht was normal growing up around here fucked up as it is but damn...they killed my girl, dog. For nothing! She aint even deserve that!"

Dimebag assured, "Hey don't trip, cuz. Them CGF marks sowed their own poison brother. I aint no holy roller but I truly believe that shit."

 _El Corona , Los Santos_

 _Chingona_

Eldora Bastidas was staring at a sea of brown faces. She was sixteen years old and a Central American. She had been in the United States most of her life.. Her father had been a fighter in the civil war and they moved here in the early 80's. Her father, Gabriel, was but Mestizo in blood and Indio by how he lived. he was from El Salvador while her mother was a full blooded Lenka Indian from Honduras. Both were the same tribe. Eldora had jet black hair, with a blondish streak in the front. She was sixteen years old and about to get put on to the varrio. She knew her parents would not approve but they had been deported. She was on her own.

Her little brother, Danny and her had escaped the foster care system all though they had tried to put them at a home while waiting for a foster family to take them in, they both had escaped.

Now she was about to get put onto the varrio. Varrio Corona AKA Corona 13. Standing tall over her was a dark brown skinned Chicano with a crew cut wearing a Pounders cap and he wore a brown and white checkered shirt. He looked at her with a cigarette in his mouth. He was nineteen himself. Standing near her were old playmates and curerent homegirls. The first was a Central American girl of Salvadoran descent who despite being Salvadoran, was tall for her ethnicity at five eight. She was a pretty woman with light brown kin full luscious lips and her eyes were painted in eyeshadow typical of pachuca style. She wore a black fedora and a white wife beater under black overalls as suspenders was another common loo. She was known as Celocita.

The next was her homegirl Maribel " Dreamer" Solis. She was a pretty caramel sinned Chicana with somewhat high brown hair and she favored the color light blue and yellow a lot of the time. She wore a yellow and black checkered shirt over a white wifebeater which exposed her stomach which had the word Alta tattooed on it across her belly with the C and O R on the left side and the O N and A on the right side. In truth, she was her best friend.

Next was La Muñeca who was actually really named Mona Castellanos. She was a darker brown skinned woman of Honduran descent standing at five foot five with a pouty set of lips, big eyelashes and a nose that was a bit wide but resembled an Olmec nose. She was Honduran was La Panza which was slang for bellt. Panza was not an unattractive woman she was just maybe thirty pounds overwight. She had large breasts and a bit of weight to her stomach as well as her hips thighs and ass. She hated that nickname but there were still many vatos that liked her. She was light skinned and had long wavy black hair and she wore a black wife beater and gray dickies plus a pair of Loc Down sunglasses.

Then there was her homegirl Delores "Lolita" Ramirez. She was five ten the tallest of any girls in the neighborhood at five ten she too was curvy but light brown with jet black straight black hair. She had a tattoo on her cheek of the three dots. She was dressed in somewhat of a mixture between rocker and chola. She always did. Today she wore a plaid dress over a black mesh top. Her lipstick was blue on the outer lips and their natural color more in. She also had penciled in eyebrows. She was of Mexican and Dominican descent. She wasn't sure how Dominicans or Puerto Ricans and Cubans for that matter ended up on the west coast.

She looked at her homegirls. They looked back at her. "You sure you're down for this, esa?" Asked Mona. "I'm not going back to the orfanato. Let's do it..."

She threw the first punch getting Dreamer in the face. Eldora took th next blow as La Panza hit her in the side of the face. She went to attack Panza but soon she was bonbarded by punches and kicks and the girlst were throwing and punching and kicking her as they mobbed on her. Danny, a short youngster of about five five with light brown skin and deep dark big brown eyes and a Corkers cap saw the ass whooping his sister was taking. "Get off her!" He screamed but Tricky held him back. "Stay back homes. Your sister wanted this. She's doing it for both of you."

"They're gonna kill her!" He cried. "No, they're not..." Tricky promised. The time was being counted as Eldora took blow after blow. The hardest seemed to come from La Panza and Lolita. Her nose and lips bled as the fists bombarded her. "Veintiséis ... veintisiete ... veintiocho ...,. Veintinueve ... treinta ... treinta y uno ... treinta y dos ..."

She tackled Mona throwing blows at her stomach and headbutting her but Mona after taking a head butt and two jabs hit Eldora in the back of the head and the back with force that knocked the Central American to her knees. She was winded at the kicks in her side, her back and her stomach. Before long, a minute had passed. As she hit the ground again and covered her head, she thought, _Sixty seconds down...forty four more to go._

She held on for the rest of it. Finally they stopped and she was helped to her feet. She charged at La Panza since the chubby girl had been extra viscious. "Calmate cabrona!" Screamed the bigger woman shoving her back. "You're one of us now, fool!" She hugged her and the other homegirls did that as well. "I wasn't about to roll the dados..." Groaned Eldora. She then turned to Tricky. "Now you and me..."

"What?"

"Yeah. You and me. Throw in a homeboy or two actually. Because as much as this is supposed to prepare us, there could be some vatos who catch us slipping on the streets and they got more upper body strength so we should have to get jumped in by vatos too."

"Fuck that eh..." Stated Dreamer. "My ex thought the relationship was a boxing ring enough as it is..."

"Well then do it for me..." Eldora said brushing the blood from her face. "Mija, you sure?" Danny being concerned stated, "No don't do it! You're beat up enough as it is!"

She pt her dukes up. "Bring it...unless you're scared to lose to a girl...?

Tricky shrugged. "Okay..." With that he socked her in the face and she hit the ground hard. Two homeboys came up as well and she swung at the balls of the first one and came up headbutting the next. She punched him in the face to give herself some breathing room and Tricky was about to throw another blow but she hit him with a hard left. . The other homeboy tried to get up but was floored by the nut shot. "We should have called no shots to the juevos! Fuck..."

Tricky hit her again this time in the stomach. Maybe he was trying to hurt her lress thinking by going for the body he'd be less likely to do more serious damage than her head but the truth was her abdomen was sore and she hoped she hadn't had any broken ribs. It pissed her off. She head butted him and followed up with a punch to his gut which she could see winded him and he staggered and she hit him wit a left jab to the face and then a right to the nose. The two homeboys "

Ecabronada smiled. Danny walke over to her hugging her and asked, "Are you okay, hermana?" She told him, "I'm firme...but don't hug me my ribs hurt, eh...by the way you're never joining the varrio. You're goin to stay in school."

'

"Are WE okay?" He asked making sure this would keep them from needing to go to the foster system. "Ahuevo..." She promised. "Bueno..." He said. "Cause I thought all these guys are calita...at least until they beat up on you..."

"Ellos calita...this is just what we have to do around here. Life aint easy for a Guanaca..that's how we survive the streets. It aint easy for Catrachos either."

(They're cool)

"Orale..." Stated the half Salvadoran half Honduran teenager. "But I aint a punk either. If people try to mess with me I'm gonna fight..."

"That's fine. But don't play with a gun..ever.."

"Why do you get to be the soldada and I gotta be the book worm?" Complained Danny. "I'm the boy."

"Beause I'm older than you," She said. "And I can still kick your ass..." She said in a teasing tone. Tricky handed her a beer and she took it for the pain. "Hey you want a col one too, homes?"

Eldora shook her head. "Danny doesn't drink. He aint about to start."

"Hey, the vats gonna have his first pisto somewhere it might as well be among friends."

"Who says he has to drink? Even I'm only drinking it for the pain..."

"Orale...and by the way you'll be on a mission with us soon to hit up the Ass Lickers and the Mara Cucas. Theyve both been fuckin with the comaradas. I don't care what the politics is in the condado. On the calles, these levas are asking to get fucked up. The carnales may have said we have to peace with each other to a point and stop drive-by's but..that's easier said than done. The Aztecas have been keeping one foot on the ground and one in the car when they hit us up."

After a while, Dreamer asked, "Hey you want to roll with us to cap some Aztecas? I got an idea. A way to catch them off guard."

"Keep a trucha," Stated Eldora. "Watch out for Danny..."

"Orale...we'll keep him safe..." Tricky turned to the teenager. "You up for some pizza?" The teenager nodded. "What do you want, hermano, Pizza This or Well Stacked?" The teen shrugged. "I don't know either one as long as there's Canadian bacon and Jalapenos!" He chuckled. "Ma, you really are your sister's brother. Chapnes y catrachos got weird taste but its all firme..."

Eldora got into a dark gold Glendale with Dreamer, Lolita and Mona. They began to drive off towards South Los Santos and the song I Got Pulled Over by Kid Frost featuring MC Eiht and ALT played on Radio Los Santos. "Hey, mija, dispensa...on being so hard on you. We all had to go through with it..." Stated Dreamer. "I saw you come hard at me so I know you were pissed. But then when I saw you go toe to toe with Tricky I thought shit. This hyna is loca. Tricky's one tough motherfucker."

"It's fine. I'm sorr too...it just sorta all caught me by surprise but I know it's in case any bitches from Aztecas or Mara try and get me. But that's also why I headed up with the boys too. You just never know."

"Hey your brother is kinda cute..." Mona said with a chuckle. "Chale, esa don't be a skonka eh he's still in middle school," Stated Dreamer. "Hey don't trip I'm just saying..."

Eldora asked, "So who we hitting up?" Lolita said, "You mean specifically? These fuckers in Northern Rancho killed the homeboy Raymond. You remember Reymundo?"

"Yeah. The guy with the lazy eye..He was always quiet."

"Well we don't know which one of those fuckers did it but we know their clique did it. They just ran up on him parked their carucha while he was over on Ray Lowenstein and started spraying."

"Then why are we hitting them up if we don't know who did it? It's the vatos who do that dumb shit. Hitting up random people from the other side. Somos mujeres. We're supposed to plan ahead!"

"True but we gotta pop your cherry, baby..." Stated Mona. "And I got just the plan for how you can catch these fools..." She whispered into the Central American's ears. Eldora's eyes widened. "That's so fucked up!"

"I know but it'll work."

They pulled up finally arriving in the Aztecas neighborhood. There were five gang members on the corner. The first was a light brown skinned Chicano in a black jacket over a white t shirt blak khakis and a teal do-rag under a black cap and shades. He was smoking a cigarette and he stood at five nine. The next was a darker Chicano with a mustache weaing a turquoise bandanna and a white t shirt with khakis and shades. The third gang member wore a plaid trquoise button up with just the top button buttone and blue jeans shorts. The fourth gang member had a long black ponytail and olive skin and he wore a dark blue t shirt and blue dickies and a crucifix necklace. The fifth had a shaved head and a goatee and had a tattoo of an Aztec warrior on his left forearm and the Virgin Mary on the right.

The song Hit Em Up by 2pac played on the radio. "Ma, Biggie really fucked up stting his homeboy up like that...that's gacho homie..."

"He didn't hve shit to do with that..." Stated the pny tailed gangster. "But he doesn't stand a chance against the west lyrically. Those bitches out east are lame. How ar they gonna still think the west aint shit when none of them would be able to do gangster rap or nada without the west? It was NWA and Ice T talking aout it first. Fuck a bunch of Biggie and Wu Tang, fool!"

"Hey I like some of that Puerto Rican shit Big Pun put out..." Stated the third one. "Yeah but Ricans helped start it and they didn't get no airplay that's fucked up eh. At least with Frost he was the first Latino to really make it..."

"Yeah cause of Eazy E. Man I can't believe hes gone...at least we still got Pac..."

The fifth watched the fourth serve a fiend some crack. "Man you sure this is alright homie? Some of the carnales don't like us getting mixed up with yayo..."

"Man,fuck that punk. Shacking up with a Grove Street puta. He aint no Azteca in my book no more, homes. And The Families they're seeing that shit. Their way is dead. That fucker hat ran that neighborhood is dead homes. OCB made sure of that...now it's a Baller hood."

Eldora put on her fake tears and made sure the tears caused her mascera to run. "Hey mija...what's wrong..you alright?" Asked the first gang member.

"It's my ex boyfriend!" She cried. "I caught him with another woman and told him we're through...and he just went crazy and started hitting me!" The man with the cigarette flicked it out. "Takes a special kind of coward to hit a female. Where is this leva?" He and his homeboy in the ponytail stepped off from their spot on the corner. "Chuy, who gives a fuck man? We don't know her. Can't trust a pinche Chapina..." Chuy told him, "Shut the fuck up, homes. Show some respect what if that was your sister?"

The three hynas were ducked down in the Glendale. They walked her to the cr. "You okay to drive? You look pretty bad...no offense...we can get you to a hospital.."

"No hospitals..." She sniffed. "I'm illegal..." She whispered. "Orale, I'll take you back to my ruca's pad get those cuts looked at...hey...who is this punk that hit you, anyway?"

She looked Chuy in the eyes. "Reymundo. De Alta..." The Chicano's eyes widene in puzzlement before Eldora pulled out her switchblade and plunged it into his heart. He cried out in pain staring in disbelief at the betrayal. His homeboy tried to go for his pistol, a 9mm but Eldora wasted no time drawing the .22 she had been given to use in the mision. She pressed it to the ma'n's jaw on the right side pulling the trigger. He fell to the grond with a thud. She fired at the group and that was when Lolita, Dreamer and La Muneca popped up with the windows rolled down and began firing out the window.

Dreamer was firing a .380 out the window 11 times while Lolita let off five rounds from the two .25's she was wielding. La Muneca fired an M911 out the window six times. The three remaining bangers didn't have a chance. While at least six of the total rounds the girls fired went astray, there was more than enough to hit every man. Return fire came from a house to Eldora's 7'oklock position so she ran and the car was started and Dreamer yelled, "Vamanos! Go go go!" She jumped in through the window and tore off as a male and a female gang member fired after them.

"Motherfucking Alta style!" Screamed Dreamer as they finally got clear of the Aztecas.

At Eldora's request, they stopped and pulled over at a 24/7 and the teenager vomited in the bathroom. She was shaking at what she had done. She hadn't taken one life. She had taken two! All to try and "Take care" of herself and Danny? How could she take care of him if she ended up dead or in jail?

They got back to the hood dropping her off. She and Danny stayed with Lolita but Lolita was taking the guns to get rid of. Eldora washed off the switchblade in the sink. She had to try and put o a sisterly face for Danny who was doing his homework with pizza. "How's it going?" She asked looking over the homework. "Struggling..." He admitted. "Where did you go tonight?"

She lied, "Just went cruising through Little Mexico. No biggie. You need any help?"

"Nah, I'm good. But..."

"What?"

He sighed. "It's just...I was learning about the American Revolution last month. And this month it's the Civil War. Like...it's revolution and then...civil wa...and it makes me think of dad...and mom..."

"Well I think the south saw that as their revolution and in both cases it was brother against brother. Why does it remind you of papa? Is it cause he was a revolutionary too?"

"It's just...they destroyed the motherland...and he's the same as these people who fought against the government's in their day...they saw it as evil. Then the North fighting the south...end slavery..." He sighed "What's wrong? I miss them too but what are you getting at?"

"Because papa is a patriot! Just like the old days in this county so why don't they respect that? He was doing a good thing too even if fighting is...bad..."

"Because...Danny..." She sighed. "Papa aint a gringo...they don't care about the rights of anybody but themselves. Papa told me they even funded the government that did all those things back home...the mass murders..."

"Why? Why do they hate us so much?" She sighed sitting next to him. "They SAY it was to stop communism..." He didn't understand. "But the Russians stopped being communist. The war is over..."

"I know...and yet...it happened. They say the war has a chance of ending this year. Peace finlly...but pap is still down there and it's dangerous...so they...they were wrong to deport him...and mama..."

"Do you think they'll find each other?" His eyes were like a puppy. The taste in her mouth was bitter not just from vomiting. She didn't feel well. She needed to take it easy. "I hope so..." The chola said softly. She looked at his doe like eyes. He was a teenager too and while he was like a lot of kids his age sometimes she saw him as even younger than that. Having mama and papa deported had fucked him up. She would try and take care of him until they got back but she didn't know if she'd be able to fill their shoes.

* * *

This is just the first chapter and with that I introduce two out of the six characters in this story. Main characters that is. I don't have an actress in mind forEldora but that is who the basis for the avatar is. IAny ideas who could voice her if she were a real gta character? As for the lowider update it's pretty lame even in a lowrider dlc you can't work on the side of a raza gang either aztec or vagos ut instead work for lamar. You know it's not just him being from the families i don't see him as the type that likes lowriders. His generation is of he does't carry himself like a 90's gangster even if he wants to be and listens to older scool rap he's still a millenial swaggot. That's just my two cents. With Ryder or Big Smoke I could see it. Basically CJ was the generation of Eazy E and lowriderFrank and Lamar are the generation of Tyler The Creator and Kerndrick Lamar and skinny jeans.

I made this story because GTA SA was in the early 90's and V was the 2010's and I want to show the mid 90s late 90s and early 2000's in LS. Due to the timeline you will also see similar themes to The Shileld. As for JD he is visually based on Tyrin Turner who played Caine. Jana was visually based on Aliyah who by the way i found out was 1/4 Oneida which is the closest tribe to mine it's like language wise, Oneidas are the sons of Mohawk while the Onondaga is like our younger brother. I didn't know that about her. Its only a quarter but i think i can kind of see it.

The reason I went with Tyrin as JD is because in eal life he grew up in the 52 Hoover neighborood so that's here i had him from so Orane Grove which was the scrapped gang idea will be based on Hoovers so they are neither Familie (Crips) or Ballas (Bloods) so if you were tired of stories nd games centered on those two gangs you can rest assured they'll war with both. The shooting of JD and Jana is based on the start of Natural Born Killaz the song by Dr Dre and Ice Cube. I thought the guy who gets shot at the start of that when he says why you fuckin with me almost sounds like Caine too.

Obviously O Loc is Larenz Tate AKA O Dog from Menace II Society and Dimebag is based on Prodigy from South Central Cartel who is also from Hoover. Plus when you consier the gang Grove well in real life hoovrs say they're grooving and they call each other Grove so clearly originally they were meant to be based on the Hoovers. So their colors will be orange too.

As for Eldora I wanted to give her a unique name and surname not your typical name like Maria Hernandez. I also havem't decided on who Danny or Tricky should be based on

So Dreamer is visually based on Seidy Lopez, Lolita is visually based on Jackie Cruz from Orange Is The New Black.

but Dreamer is based on Seidy Lopez and Lolita is based on Jackie sure yet about La Munica or La Panza yet. As for Corona 13 I was trying to decide what real life gang to make Eldora be from I thought about Echo Park, 49th street or East Side Trece i should say also Chapines 13 which is a defunnct Guetemalan Sur gang but at the same time this was 96 so they may have been active then and she will work with them too but in this case, Varrio Corona is based on Lennox 13. I mean in SA El Corona was kind of based off Lennox. And i admit this is a mix of the old and new map.

As for Eldora's placa or nickname it's based off Jessica Pemintel from orange is the new black's alias as she joined my fav band Brujeria. He name is Encabronada Bruja or pissed off witch. She was a fan of them since age 13 and they actully let her join she wa already a metal head and it was interesting hearing what she thought abot them vs her life on OITNB she said orange is Hollywood where as Brujeria is like reality so she expects fans of Orange ma nt understand her artistic tendency to join them. Having a Dominican in the band could be ool they already are Mexican and Puerto Rican. But i liked that nickname Encabronada for pissed off and it would make a good placa. As for Central American slang ahuevo among Guetemalans is like saying for sure. Calita means cool.

Caltrachos is slang for Hondurans as far as the national nickname. A Salvadoran is a Guanaco or Guanaca if female. Guetemalans are Chapine or Chapina. A Nicaraguan is just a Nika.

There are four more protagonists fo the next chapter three will be gang related one will be independent but a criminal all the same and just to be fair one of these protagonists will be a member of the Son Of Samoa so i can represent polynesian gangs as 'l be an original member though that is disillusioned by the new generation and their affiliation to the Families. I'm also wrestling with the idea of having one of these protagonists start in another city I'm thinking Venturas. Thoughts? Bear in mind it'll be my non affiliated character if he does.

And while I won't spoil the remaining two oc's details I will say that one of the four protagonists will be Yakuza. Always wanted to do that. Any who tats it for now.


	2. Blood Oath

Oyabun

Hayako Yamashita had arrived in the United States just two weeks ago. He was staying in Little Edo, a Japanese American enclave in Los Santos which had an underground secret to it too. It was run and controlled by the was home to the largest Japanese American population in North America. It had started as just a small population of about 3500 Japanese and quite a few Russians and Jews and many had migrated there from 1905 to 1924 up until the exclusion act that year halting further immigration. During World War II as Japanese Americans were incarcerated Little Edo was largely emptied and for a time it was known as Brownsville seeing as many Native Americans, Mexican Americans and African Americans moved in and started opening up resterauts and night clubs. During the Zoot Suit Riots, Mexican American and African Americans were attacked and as the war came to a close, many of the African American residents were relocated to the government housing projects in Rancho.

The Japanese Americans did return to their old duties in the community but even after the war, Anti Japanese sentiment was at an all time high. Just as they had surged in numbers after World War II, while it was true that they were the most numerous in Hawaii, in San Andreas, the Yakuza had started to surge in numbers as well. Just as the tongs in Chinatown had been formed to protect themselves from xenophobic Americans, the same held true for the Japanese who were much later arrivals to the United States.

Hayako was a man with golden brown skin. He never understood why Asians were considered yellow when really their skin was more of a gold color. He had wavy jet black hair and a long yet wide face. His eyes were brown and almond shaped with an upward angle. His lips were about average in size, larger than most Caucasians yet slightly smaller than most African hair was somewhat punkish with spikes in it. He stood five foot seven and weighed a hundred and forty pounds. He was twenty four years old and had only recently become a member of the Tetsu No Tsume clan of Yakuza. Unllike a lot of Yakuza members, however, he did not yet have a sleeve of tattoos.

His Oyabun was Akira Tanaka. He was a middle aged Japanes man in a blue gray suit. He had two glasses poured one for himself and one for Hayako. Akira's was filled to the brim with Sake while Hayako's had much less. Both had not only Sake in it but also fish scales and salt. Akira's glass was filled to symbolize his status. The two stared at each other and Hayako did a bow of his head out of respect. They both took a drink of their Sake. Hayako felt the drink pass from his lips to his tongue and down his throat. Akira drank half of his while Hayako had taken only a drink and with that, the two exchanged glasses and drank from each other's glass. The Sake represented their blood and in drinking each other's this solidified their was now official. Hayako was a kobun.

There was lively conversation in Japanese and many of the Yakuza members had their girlfriends and wives with them. Hayako on the other hand was single. Just then, their sliding doors were kicked in and tear gas went through the air. "Run!" creamed Akira. The N.O.O.S.E team members were coming in through the doors. This was one disadvantage to the Japanese style doors especially in Los Santos. It may be easier to get out but it was harder to keep anybody out. Akira yelled, "Hayakawa! Watashi to kite! Dekinai soroera o sau seru watishitachi o toru!"

(Hayako! Come with me! We can't let them take us!)

He handed the yakuza member an Uzi while he himself himself had an AK-47 that he got from under the floorboard. "LSPD! Get on the fucking floor!" Screamed one of the officers clad in body armor who had an M4. He fired striking down one of the Yakuza membes hitting him in the chest a man in a black tailored suit with a dark blue tie and slicked back black hair. He fell over bleeding as the rounds penetrated his heart.

Hayako fired striking a NOOSE agent in the chest his body armor took the ten rounds but he fell over all the same. He aimed striking another in the chin. The rounds exploded into the man's Adams apple.. Akira made his way through a door just as two N.O.O.S.E agents tried to block off the doorway. Akira let the first one have it up close and personal with twelve rounds in the chest which went through the body armor. The N.O.O.S.E agent fell over coughing up blood. He struck the next N.O.O.S.E agent in the throat, an African American agent. A few of the 7.62 rounds hit his helmet as well. They made their way out to the gray Willard and Hayako hopped in the drivers seat while Akira ducked more Yakuza gang members made their way to the car, one was Yoshida, a man with short black hair and gold colored skin a man of primarily Japanese descent but partially Russian as well.

He had an MP5 in his hands. The other man was a long haired man of Japanese and Korean descent named Sazuke Yamamoto, he had a pair of brown eyes that always appeared to be sneering and suspicious of everyone around them. He stood at five nine and had a narrow athletic frame. He too, carried an MP5 but he had also sustained a couple of bullet wounds in the left side. "You all right, Sazuke?" The gang member replied, "This isn't my first time being shot if that's what you mean...I aint going to jail. Fuck the Gaijiin!" He let a burst of rounds off at two N.O.O.S.E. members as they made their way out of the Yakuza hangout.

He sped up the street turning off 9th street. Akira, Yoshida and Sazuke fired out the window as a N.O.O.S.E. Granger tore after them and the agents off the side fired at them. They managed to knock the agents off the Granger however as the Iron Claw members managed to hit them before the Agents could hit them. "Where do we go, Oyabun?!" Cried Hayako. "The Shinto Temple across from the Nikkei museum of history!"

Hayaky took a sharp U turn and the Granger pulled past him and he let off a twenty two round burst at the N.O.O.S.E driver and hit the man, a tan Caucasian man with dark blonde hair and blue eyes in the face. The first four took off the point of his wound sprayed all over the windshield and the dash board and steering wheel. The next few rounds hit him in the larynx and tore into his lymph nodes and two more went into the rest of the neck. Hayako chuckled. "Now that's what I call a sore thyroid!"

They pulled into a back alley as the helicopter searched the streets for them. "I can't believe this!" Hayako growled. "With all the gang members in East Los Santos and South Central, the police feel like we are the biggest threat?! If this were Tokyo we'd have their heads on a platter..."

"We'll make the officers in charge of this pay soon but you're not in Fukuaka anymore. Things are done differently in the United States. We can't go around cutting off heads..."

They pulled into a car park two blocks west and they paid off the Japanese American female working the booth. She told them, "Mr. Tanaka, there's a beige '93 Sentinel on the second floor. Hurry.."

They got to the second floor. There was a change of clothes for each of them too. Hayako got change into a black leather jcket over a white t shirt and blue jeans with rips in the knees grunge style. Akira wore a dark red Hawaiin t shirt and brown cargo pants. "They're looking for four of us..." Akira stated as he patched up Suzuke's wounds. "Until we can get you fixed up a new pair of clothes wouldn't do much good. You know what to do, right?"

The man nodded. "Hai!" He climbed into the trunk and they drove out of there. They pulled up to the Shinto temple which was located on 100 N Central Avenue in good time as the squad cars were still searching the area. "Park it around back. I'm old friends with the owner of this place..." Insisted Akira. He then said, "Listen, for now, it may not be glmorous but we'll stay here until the heat dies down."

"As long as it's not an otaku prison, that's fine by me..." Hayako stated.

In The Hat

Morgan "Sandman" Waingro had just touched down out of Boilerbroke. Sandman was a Caucasian male with blondish long hair and a mustache and matching goatee. He stood at five foot eleven tall. He' been in prison the last eight years. He was thirty nine old and he had been doing time for robbery. He was from the Midwest originally and had moved to Los Santos in the mid eighties. He'd been part of a robbing crew in Carcer City and he had also robbed banks in North Yankton. He'd gone away once he arrived in San Andreas. He was looking at himself in the mirror of the motel he was staying in which was located in Blaine County at the Yellow Jacket Inn. He put a hand over the red swastika tattoo that was in the middle of his chest.

He had a clover tattoo on his right arm as well with the number 666 in it. He had joined the Aryan Vanguard in prison for protection. He was not a racist guy per say but in that envioroment you couldn't be politiacally corrct killed six people first guy had been a member of the now defunct Temple Drive Families. The man's name was Duane Wilson and he had tried to steal Waingro's shoes. Wainro had beaten him one on one in a fist fight before both sides rushed them on the yard but Wilson wanted revenge. He'd tried to shank him in the shower but instead got shanked himself after another beating. This murder got the Vanguard's attention. The next time he had to kill sombody to get in the gang, it was a fellow AV brother accused of being a jailhouse snitch. He'd shanked the man in his own cell while he was taking a shit.

In 1990, he killed a North Side Rifa from Ohlone, San Andreas slicing the Northern Chicano's throat ear to ear in a blindspot below a tier. In 1992, he would attack a Salvadoran inmate from Marabunta. Because Marabunta would not be under La Onda for another year, there was no retaliation against Waingro as there might have been had it happened in 93 and luckily for him at that point they were still green lit themselves and under constant attack by Vagos and Aztecas in prison looking to rank up into the Chicano Mafia.

In 1994, he ended up stabbing a Baller from the Front Yard set. The Baller had been in for arson during the 92' riots as well as burning the owner of the store he had burned down a business owner in East Vinewood. This had angered a member of the AV who was in the SHU or Security Housing Unit since the man burned was a childhood friend so Waingro was ordered to handle it. They would have gotten to him sooner but up until that point the Baller had spent the first two years in solitary for fights with Aztecas. Waingro reformed the African American gang member and got him an early parole date via a one inch shank to the optic nerve in his left eyeball. The next was a heroin addict in 95' a Vietnamese gangster named Thomas Pham. He was a Da Nang Boyz member who had strangled an Aryan to death so he had been marked for death.

Morgan, pretended to be a heroin addict same as him and under the guise of sharing a needle, proceeded to give Thomas a hot shot. When Thomas was high from a previous dose,rather than giving him a hot shot in the way that one normally would, he just forced him to snort a lethal amount of smack. He had been to weak to fight him so Morgan had put his hand over his mouth and said he wouldn't let him breathe through his mouth and he would only be able to breathe through his nose if he snorted first. From a logical view point it wouldn't make much sense either way but a smacked out mind wasn't exactly a brainiac. Needless to say, he had success in killing the Vietnamese gangster. It was this act that got him the 666 clover tattoo which was under his armpit so the guards couldn't see it. It had hurt like hell but he did it

It was in 1995 when he was validated as a member of the Aryan Vanguard. There had been a racial riot on the yard. Blows and shanks had been exchanged. He hadn't been able to get to his shiv in time so he had to fight bare handed against black, Asian and Samoan gang bangers. The Ese's weren't even on the yard that day because they had been acting up on their own and they had landed in the SHU plus others had been transferred. The only people on the yard that could back them up was various other white gangs that fell under the Vanguard's umbrella and Vagabond MC had stood tall against the hordes of Familes and Ballas that had attacked along with the AV'ers plus a gang that was their go to crew on the yards, the Most Hated a white supremacist prison gang, but the Angels Of Death MC had refused to participate. Their excuse was "We're not white. We're red and white," Referring to the colors on their patches.

This was the wrong move. As a result of this, the AV in that particular prison ran the Angels off the main yard and many had to be transferred to other prisons or go into protective custody. The Angel Of Death gang member who had been among the leaders in there that had said they were not partiipating in that riot had gotte paroled along with a few others. The problem was, while it made sense to punish them for this insubordination, it had been over a year ago. They needed this to end for the sake of their alliance against common enemies behind bars and to make profits from the drug trade continue on as usual. If the understood knowledge was that the Aryan Vanguard, the Chicano Mob, AKA La Onda, the Black Guerilla Army and Nuestra Syndicato was full of junkies, the Angels Of Death were too and they loved Vanguard heroin.

In a way, however, Sandman also understood their side of it too. While it wasn't true that there was as many Angels in prison as AV, the fact was the Angels had been around longer than the Vanguard had. So had the Lost MC. So even with members today, maybe it wasn't so much that the Angels wanted to run the white car in prison controlling all the peckerwood gangs so much as they didn't see a reason to have to take orders from them. Some barrios among the Chicano mob had been resistant to paying homage to La Onda at first too not seeing why barrios that had existed since the 30's had to take orders from a prison gang started in the 50's. But Onda's ruthlessness had settled that dispute. So too had the AV time and time again. Though he didn't care too much, Waingro had to wonder if the BGA ever had that problem with younger Ballas and Families not wanting to fall in line. He had heard they preferred Ballas to the Families because Families set tripped but he also wondered if it ever went further than that. He wondered if iit was the same deal for them. Young gangsters with a date not wanting to have to do what lifers tell them especially guys they would never see.

Even though he understood the position the Angels had, he still was who he was just as much as they were who they were. Up until that fight on the yard, he had respected them. He sure as hell had more respect for them than those assholes in the Lost that occasionally tried to come to the state via Blaine County. As of now, the only bike gang Waingro did have any respect at all for was the Vagabonds.

Now he found himself driving a shitty light blue Tahoma through Sandy Shores. The song Would by Alice N Chains played on Radio X as he drove through the rural town a Redwood between his lips. He'd been told where they would be. He spotted his half brother who was a member of Most Hated and wanted to be a member of the Vanguard but had not been approved yet. His brother's name was Montgomery "Monty" Waingro. Monty had a shaved head and blue squinty eyes and a brown goatee standing at five eleven. He'd done time in Eagle Bay. "Did you get it?" Demanded Monty. "Right here. Still being manufactured. It won't hit the streets for another year."

He handed him the Handgun. He had one for himself. They both had Walther P99's. "Good," Sandman said. They pulled up to the trailer park two blocks over. He spotted it. Two Freeway's and a Zombie plus a Burrito. It wasn't marked but he knew it was theirs. Monty knocked on the door. An Angel opened the door with a 12 gauge cocked annd aimed at the gap in the doorway. He went around the side of the trailer. He recognized the smell of meth. "The fuck do you want?" Demanded the biker inside. "I want some of that good shit, brother. It's hot out here. I want to cool off. And the ice machine is empty. Can I get some from our freezer?"

"Fuck off before you end up having to be put on ice, asshole!" Growled the biker a blonde cury haired man with mean blue eyes and a dirty blonde beard. "I just wanted to see if Grinder's inside. He and I knew each other in prison..."

The Treasurer, a man with long curly brown hair, piercing brown eyes and a reddish brown goatee and mustache standing at five nine, with a muscular build and a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm, opened the door wider. "Who, you? I don't know you. I remember the face of every son of a bitch I served time with whether I hated them or not and you I don't know."

"You're right. It was just to get you here. But you did time with my brother."

"Who's your brother?" Asked Grinder coming outside, a .357 Magnum trained on him. "That'd be me!" The deep voice of Sandman boomed as he trained his Walther P99 at the high ranking biker. "Remember me, peckerwood?" Before any of them could make a move, Morgan put his P99 at the back of the head of one of the Angels who had been free basing.A scragily andd homely red haired male with hair half an inch. He had beady green eyes an stood five six and wore a black leather jacket despite the sun. Monty aimed next pointing his pistol in the face of Grinder. The Angel with the gauge yelled, "Drop it, asshole! You're outnumbered!" Morgan grinned. "Hell, the way I see it, one of me is worth three of you chicken shits," Squawked Waingro. "And that's not counting my little brother here. My flesh and blood. Chip off the old man's cock!" He said with a bit of a maniacal cackle.

"The fuck you want, Waingro?" Demanded the Angel. "What I want is the last eight years back. But you don't owe me for all them eight years. Just the last one where I was locked up in the SHU. Ya see maybe if I didn't have to stand tall holding the toads back when I got isolated, I would have been able to get on the ground sooner when the bulls sent their tear gas out. Then they wouldn't have singled me out and valiated me. I'm lucky they idn't find me guilty of any other crime. Cept' they added a year to my sentence they would hve done more if they could.A lot of brothers ended up in the SHU. All cause you chicken shits didn't stand with us..."

"Hey, fuck you. We may have the lightning bolt tattoos some of us. It's a prison thing but me? I aint playing errand boy to no fuckin Nazi. My granddaddy fought in World War 2 against them at Normandy and he was an original Angel. An original biker. The originals didn't kill those Nazi cocksuckers just to become Nazis."

"Hey pal, I share your sentiments, I really do. This is just a uniform to me. I'm just an employee. I'm not saying I work for PR..." He said with his hand over the place where the swastika tattoo was under his shirt. "But in there you do what you have to do to survive. Every group has their in crowd. We all have our symbols. We all have battle flags. We're no more hateful than the next group. You ever heard of the 5%ers? We're just two sides of the same coin. But you didn't understand the greater good of the group over the individuals. If it had been your asses on the line you would have wanted us to bail you out. We HAVE bailed you out. Many times. But not everybody in there was chicken shit. Maybe it don't make sense to make all Angels pay. We need your boys back on the yard. But before we can move forward, you gotta be spanked. And since you disrespected the brotherhood, it's gotta be you."

"Yet you're hiding behind an Angel. You aint a real outlaw, boy. You were a goody two shoes before you got to the clink," Sneered Grinder. "Now that's where you're wrong. He was out robbing banks..." Stated his little brother. "Was I talking to you you fucking bald cancer patient?"

"Bald head looks better than your long hair..."

"Hey fuck that..."" The Angel with the shotgun said. "Yeah... only three kinds of men wear their hair long...hippies...Indians and fags. I don't see no flowers in your hair and you definitly aint Injun. So you must want to be a girl, PUNK..." Sneered Monty. "You two aint walking outta here...pulling guns on me in front of my neighbors? The Vanguard is a joke. You take orders from Onda. For all your talk of pride and self respect, you got none really."

"You're just hiding behind an Angel now, motherfucker. Yet you claim we're hidig behind you in the joint?" Growled the Angel. "You're right. But I wasn't hiding. He's not even a shield. It was just a way to get your attention. But if it makes you feel any better..." He pulled the trigger four times sending rounds into the body of the junkie Angel and the man with the shotgun fired at Waingro just as he threw the already wounded gang member at him. The shotgun blast hit the man in the gut at point blank range and he fell to the floor crying out only for it to be stifled by little whimpers. Waingro had a sadistic smile on his face. The man's intestines oozed out as his face paled and his inards spilled out onto the floor as he went into shock and convulsed.

The Angel with the shotgun was so caught up in the shock at having just shot his own friend that he didn't react fast enough to rack another load. With his left hand, Monty pressed the barrel to his stomach and pulled the trigger five times. He tok the man's shotgun and dipped it into the stomach of the dying Angel with his guts hanging out. He the stuck the bloody barrel into the mouth of the man coughing up blood from the five bullet wounds. "You're joined by blood. For life. Like a marrige. Till death do us part, right?" He pulled the trigger and decorated the man's brains and skull fragments all over the Sheer Terror band it was a poster of their album Ugly And Proud the second studio album, bits of skull fragments and the biker's temporal lobe had painted the image of the dog being hugged by a tattooed arm.

Grinder ran firing his .357 trying to bolt to the window Sandman had climbed through. He fired two rounds both of them missing as he was in a panic. Another biker, this man a Mexican Castizo of 75% European descent and 25% Indigenous descent with light pale brown skin and hazel eyes and a shaved head fired a .45 at them to protect Grinder. He struck Sandman with one round in the left arm grazing him. Sandman let off six rounds strikin the man right in his goatee blowing out his chin. The man collapsd to his knees and Monty put one in his heart just to make sure he died.

They both then fired off several shots at Grinder. Grinder was hit by two rounds one in each of the back of his legs by Monty and four in the back from Sandman. As he had run, he had knocked over his own fan. "I could respect everthing you did. Maintaining your independence against us. Hell, maybe I should have lone wolfed it myself. But I was in twenty three hour lockdown. I wasn't lucky enough to have a cellie like the others. Do you know how lonely a man gets?"

He then busted his fan open taking the cage out and the exposed fan blades were shown. He turned to Monty with an evil smile. "Baby brother...put on my music. It's time for Papa Sandman to send another bad boy to dreamland..."

Monty smiled too carryin a tape which he promptly put into the stereo. The song Mr. Sandman by the Chordettes played.

Mr. Sandman

bring me a dream

make him the cutest that I've ever seen

give him two lips like roses and clover

then tell him that his lonely nights are over

Morgan stood above the wounded Angel and he said, "You know, I always wondered what would happen if you stuck your hand in one of these things. Mama said I'd lose a hand but how does she know for sure? She's got both hands. I always wondered...do I have a volunteer for my science project? I never did too well in that subject but I regret ditching that class..."

"NO!" Screamed Grinder. Sandman's smile grew wider. "Now you see your mouth says no but your eyes say yes. Plus you're a...what do we call that, Monty?"

"Captive audience..." Stated his little brother with a grin. "That's the word I was looking for..."

As the song played, it got to where the femle singers said, "Mr. Sandman..." And then the male said, "Yes?" Which Morgan said at the same time.

He took Grinder's left hand and said, "Now when you basically gave us the finger when you wouldn't stand with us on the yard was it with your left or your right hand?" He dragged Grinder towards the fan as Monty held the fan up ready for him. He put the hand into the blades and the blades stopped but blood sprayed from the wound leaving a bloody stump. "You know...fun fact..." Stated Morgan. "Those black Muslim inmates...some of the guys that were fighting us along with the Familes and Ballas...they wipe their asses with their left hand...and they don't believe in jerking off so you don't gotta worry about that but I just think it's weird! I wipe my ass with my right hand! So while they think you're supposed to wipe with the left since the Quran says so they shake hands with the right. But would they consider it respectful if they knew most of us wipe with our right? So now that you only got your right hand only are you disrespecting us westerners with a hand shake or honoring them?! Or disrespecting them?! It's very confusing!"

"WAINGROOOOOOOO! ARGHHHHHHHHH SHIIIIIT! YOU CRAZY FUCING ASSHOLE!"

"Yeah, Grinder...you use your left or right to choke the chicken, boy?" Asked Monty. "Ask...your mom..." Groaned the Angel in defiance. "I thumb blasted the bitch till she came and puked. She was squirting outta both ends..."

Waingro whistled. "Well boy, you just picked the wrong thing to say. I guess it aint gonna be a question of what hand you wipe your ass with or what hand you shake with. it'll be what stump!"

He brought him to the sink and turned on the garbage disposal. Grinder shrieked as his remaining hand was ruined and Morgan grinned saying, "Hey now I know why they call you Grinder!" As blood sprayed from his hand, Monty yelled, "Hey bro! He's got another industrial stock fan in his bedroom!" "AHHHHHHH!" Screamed Grinder and his face was pale from the bloodloss and he almost fell over but Roland seized him by the collar. He brought him to the back bedroom and Monty had already gotten the cage off. Roland began singing off key again. "Mr Sandman...Im so alone. don't have no fingers to call my own..." He had changed the lyrics to fit the situation. "So won't you please turn on your magic beam? MR. SANDMAN GIVE ME REPRIEVE!" He shoved his face into the fan and severed his nose dark blood almost brown in color sprayed all over the room. He also severed the jugular artery with the metal fan blades.

He let Grinder's twitching body hit the ground as he was in the throes of death. With that, Monty got a jerry can from the car to start pouring all over the trailer. Morgan seized all the stacks of money on the coffee table and the three pounds of meth and they headed out and Monty was behind him with the gas trail. Morgan lit the gas trail and they got in the Tahoma as the flames spread and they drove away. After they got a couple blocks up, Sandman turned to Montgomery. "Baby brother..." He said with seeting anger. "Tell me you got my Chordettes tape out before you poured the gas!"

"I...I didn't...I thought you wanted me to leave it in...to block out the sound..."

"DAMN IT, MONTY! YOU HORSES ASS! THAT'S MY TAPE! IT'S MORE VALUABLE THAN YOU!" He growled. "IT'S ALL WE GOT LEFT OF MAMA!" The younger brother stammered, "But...but Morgan...it was supposed to block out the screaming!"

"That was just until we got out of the trailer! You were supposed to take it out! No music was gonna cover up an explosion! DAMN IT, MONTY! NOW I HAVE TO PUNISH YOU! AND THIS TIME A BEATING WON'T DO. IM GONNA BURY MY DICK IN YOUR PROSTATE SO YOU REMEMBER!" Monty's face paled. He had been beaten by his older brother before but he had never sexually abused him. Still, prison could change a man.

"Hey...I made copies..." He said. Just like that, Sandman smiled and rubbed the bald man's head. "Well it's a good thing you did. You understand the sentimental value. And you know why buying it in store wouldn't be the same. But DON'T make that mistake again. Or I will bareback ya..."

* * *

That's it for this chapter so now we introduce two more characters this chapter. Right off the bat I should say this. So Sandman is visually based on Ted Levine who played Buffalo Bill in Silence of The Lambs and he played Bosko in Heat. Despite my initial plans to actually base Morgan "Sandman" Waingro on Waingro from Heat who is played by Kevin Gage, and who I admit at least in terms of some aspects of his appearance plus the bank robing, he has in commn I decided that would be better for Morgan's older brother. In a way though Ted Levine and Kevin Gage are kinda simliar both have played weird danggerous bad guys. Also there are people that have said that Trevor Phillips is visually based on Waingro in the 2004 flashback and thats probably true plus cause of how much of Heat they copied i mean Michael is obviously based on Robert Deniro's character and Trevor was on Waingro. I wanted to do my own twist on that though because while Trevor is crazy unlike Wainbro he didn't join the Aryan Brotherhood and I thought about that because while t would be hard for gamers to identify with a character if this was a game, who had been in that gang, if you think about it we have watched movies before where we had a neo nazi main character such as American History X. Besides, Sandman is not prejudiced he's just the arhetype of white prisoner who joined the Aryan Vanguard (Aryan Brotherhood) for protection.

In fact there was this thing I was reading about this white guy who did time in prison and had a swastka tat and he was a Nazi Lowrider and he said from his expirience brown and black people that saw his tattoos were less likely to assume he was racist and more likely to assume he did prison time where as non racist white guys would see the tattoo and flip out and they had never been to prison. So thats one way i can make him relatable is that like he said it's just a uniform he's not saying he believes in it but he's also done too many years in it to turn back. But he will be be woking with other gangs too.

So the Vagabonds MC aforementioned is based on the Vagos MC and I want to thank Zilla for that one. But then he used my idea of the Huns MC for the Mongols so it kind of works out. And also whether you know it or not your Nobody Praying For Me thing inspired me to have Morgan "Sandman" Waingro use Mr. Sandman as his thing. Because Mr. Sandman puts you to sleep. As for whether or not your hands can be cut by fans, with a plastic fan, no but industrial fans, yes. And i know myth busters tested the industrial ceiling fans thing too. But still while your head may not get cut off by a portable one if you get you face shoved in there you're not getting up from that. Also Monty is visually based on Evan Jones from 8 mile but is more directly based on his role in Shot Caller.

As for Hayako, I was originally going to have him be a Yakuza female but mostly it's males and Yakuza women are usually just girlfriends or wives I did read some Japanese police reports where there are exceptions but I wanted to keep it realistic. I don't yet have anybody in mind for who Hayako is visually based on but I'll have to come up with someone pretty young. But Yoshida is based on Cary Hiroyuki Akira is based on Ken Wantanabe.I wanted to show early conflict and contrary to Hollywood, Yakuza and Triad don't really war with each other they work together so I knew off the bat when I came up with Hayako having Triads as enemies wouldn't really work. Most Yakuza beef seems to be with different yakuza clans and if you recognize the name Yoshida by the way, it's because he was briefly introduced in a chapter of Concrete Jungle so no matter what happen to the other Yakuza charactes you know he'll still be alive at that point.

The thing about the AB running the Hells Angels off the yard that actually did happen where they tried to say we're not white we're red and white and so the AB ran them off the yard and I wanted to show some of that. All though intially I was going to have Sandman take out an AB droput or snitch or possibly just somebody in the organization who is in the hat IE marked for death which is the AB way to say that where as Eme would say luz verde/green light.

As for my new reviewer Quince im glad you enjoyed this and I love DBZ too the original that is not Kai but anyway, im glad you're drawn to Danny and while I can't say his life will get any easier he will see his parents again. What he represents though is the young teenager who's just barely a teenager by a year or two to where they're not in High School yet but at the same time they're still a kid but see too much in the neighborhood and grow up too fast.

To Zilla 2000 Eldora is actually based on a real teen chola from the 90's well partially based on her and partly based on that Queen Bee chick i told you about from the 80's that had as much power as a lot of Eme dudes and controlled four gangs. But yeah I intended Alta to be based on Lennox 13 since it's the closest thing in the HD universe to being based on the Lennox neighbothood and the character I based her on was actually Salvadoran too. But you're right that it is based on Olvera Street to a point too and they do have gang activity remember the LS map does skew some things but Lennox was def rough like i mentioned before they used the nearby airports planes to time their gunshots since the sound drowned it out.I imagine either way it must have been hard to sleep. But i mean seeing as El Corona was based on both Lennox and El Serrano but geographically more on Lennox well if you can remember just think of how their neighborhood looked poverty wise it looked worse than Grove Street in terms of how bad the roads looked all cracked which was common back it;s safe to say in the 3d universe the Aztecas were more based on El Serreno Rifa and Lennox 13 than 18th street.

Before I forget, the Shinto Temple is based on the Hongwaji Buddhist Temple in Little Tokyo while the Nikkei Museum of History is based on the Japanese America National Museum. And like I try to in all my stories, that is the real address. Anyway until next time.


	3. No Honor Among Thieves

_Garcia, San Fierro_

 _Ixpoleros_

Javier "Yeska" Villalobos pulled up to the old neighborhood. He was in the heart of the old neighborhood, 24th street. He was twenty four years old and a Gulf War veteran. The irony of this was that he had never killed anybody. At least he didn't think he had. Though he had shot up to seventeen people in the war, none of them were confirmed kills. He had also fought in the Battle Of Mogadishu and the same thing had occurred. He had shot well over nineteen people but again it had all been at a distance and in both tours, the battles had been so filled with smoke and dust and chaos, that he was mostly shooting silloutess in the distance.

Because he never saw them up close, he never knew of the dead and the wounded Somalians, which had been hit by him. He had just joined the Army in 1990 with the purpose of staying out of trouble. Despite the intentions of staying out of trouble, he had been getting in a lot of fights. The way things were what started as a fist fight or even a rumble could end in a shootout.

He had been fucked up by the war and had gone to college out in Vice City on a scholarship earning a bachelors degree in Agriculture. He had done one year of college from '91 to '92 but he was redeployed n '93 and he had come back after his tour in Africa had come back and went back to school. He had just graduated. He had decided it was finally time to move home. He wondered if much had changed. He was a Mexican American with medium brown skin and jet black hair. He stood six feet tall and came from Chichimeca Indian stock. He was a bit apprehensive about coming back home.

On one hand, it was home but on the other, the Garcia district was full of all kinds of gang drama. Most of his friends had in some way been Rifas but a few had also been affiliated with 19th street later in life, a Vagos clique with some joining just before he had gone to the military. He had even been put onto the varrio by that point but he had never actually gotten to the point of putting in though he had been only seventeen when he joined the military, with his father's permission, he had become a man before his eighteenth birthday. Luckily, his misdemeanors had been just that and on his eighteenth birthday they no longer mattered.

Sure, there had been cuetes and he'd had them and there had been shootouts and sure he had shot back when vatos tried blasting at him based on who he was hanging with but he hadn't hit anybody. Following more fist fights at parties he'd gotten a couple misdemeanors between 1988 and 1990. At that pint, he decided to go to the Army to try and stay out of trouble.

The truth was, he was just upset. His old man had been a mechanic in the neighborhood but just a week after graduation, his dad had been working on a car at a garage in Doherty when it had collapsed on top of him. He'd spent a month in a coma with no progress before they pulled the plug. That was when Javier had started acting up. He hadn't actually killed anybody but because he was down enough to shoot he had been considered a comarada. Not everybody in the hood was a killer though even in a gang. It just didn't work that way.

He got out of the cab after paying the cabbie. A light brown skinned Chicano with a goatee wearing a white fedora, white tank top black suspenders on overalls plus a teal bandanna under the hat. The next was a cholo wearing a bright aqua colored plaid jacket made of flannel and a cherry red bandanna tied around his forehead. "De donde eres, vato?" Asked the Chicano.

"I'm from right here..." The other cholo shook his head. "No cause I don't know you, fool. So quit lying. You from 16th street? Or 19th street?"

An overweight brown skinned Chicano with a crew cut called out, "Oye chill homes! That's Smokey! He's from around here," He walked up. "How the hell you doing, carnal? What's it been six years?"

"At least."

"Where you been all this time, man? I heard you were out in Vice last I heard." The OG was named Wino. He and Yeska went way back all though Wino had four years on Yeska Wino had been in and out of juvie a lot as a teenager and he had been in the pinta for drug related offense when Smokey went to basic training. He wore a dark red t shirt and black khakis plus a 69ers hat on backwards.

"I graduated, wey. I'm back. Hopefully for good this time."

"Yeah? Big time eh? "

Yeska chuckled. "Anyway, I figured mi jefita and hermana y hermano were still in the neighborood. Thought I'd surprise them."

"Fuck, we gotta throw a party or something, dog. By the way, these two knucklehead vatos are El Cazo..." He said referring to the vato in the suspenders. "And that's El Hueso..."

"How come I don't know you from around here, bro?" Asked El Cazo. "Cause you lived over on 24th and Birmingham, fucker. This is 24th and Palmer, pues," Stated Wino

"Plus I'm from 22nd street originally. But it don't matter. I'm from right here, que no?" Stated El Hueso

"Orale. I hear you. Listen I gott go see my familia but I'll catch up with you later alright?"

Wino nodded. "Yeah the comaradas will be glad to see you, man just drop on by."

Making his way past the Aztlan murals, Hector looked at the beauty of them. Javier was proud to be from Fierro's oldest neighborhood. He had never gang banged in the traditional sense un terms of killing and he didn't plan on starting now but there were comaradas he hadn't seen in a while that he had grown up with. Some were just regular people like him. Others were membe of the Rifas. North Siders busting grapes for Catorce.

The famed shoe war that had started in the San Andreas prison system over a pair of shoes between Southern San Andrean Mexicans and Northern San Andrean Mexicans would have ordinarily stayed a beef that was in the system but there was the dividing line in Pottersfield. But a lot of South Siders had made their way north of the disputed turf. Naturally this lead to conflict.

He found it ironic that North Siders were still the majority in Northern San Andreas but it seemed still that the Vagos had 16th street and 19th street while Rifas had 24th street. Bigger than this, was the irony that the north side of Garcia was run by Southsiders while the south side, 24th street was run by the Rifas. It was a kind of weird bizzaro world. He walked up to the apartment to see a Chicano youngster maybe in his late teens or early twenties standing at five eight wearing a San Fierro Pirates cap on backwards plus a white t shirt and baggy blue jeans. He recognized his little sister, Esmarelda a caramel skinned brown woman wearing a pink and purple sweater with ponho style designs and black yoga pants. Her hair was tied in a ponytail. "Orale, hermanita..."

Her eyes went wide and she stood up. "Javier!" She hugged him. "Como esta?! When did...you...i didn't know you were coming home!" His little sister was strikingly beautiful. She was nineteen years old. He chuckled, "Little mocosa you grew up on me, eh!" He lifted her up in the air. He took notice of the one who was talking to her. "Eduardo Sanchez...is that you? Chingado I haven't seen you since you started middle school, man! You trying to pick up on my sister?" He took a playful swipe at him and the youngster chuckled, "Hey it aint like that, Vic We're just homies. Man it's good to see you big dog! Thought you were never coming back to the hood."

"Never say never. You been staying outta trouble?" Esmeralda spoke up. "Hell no! He's been to juvie twice since you got out. Joyriding and shoplifting."

"When did this happen?" He asked. "A month or two after you went away for basic, 's no big deal."

Yeska had looked out for him like a brother and encouraged him to stay in school and away from gangs. He saw now that he had fallen in with them too. He knew Eduardo was a good kid but he was still not the kind of vato he wanted around his sister so long as he was a gang banger. He wouldn't mind it if he got his shit together. But a lot of vatos were falling into the gangster shit. Unlike a lot of Northern San Andrean barrios that hadn't even existed before the war between Onda and Nuestra Syndicato, this was not the case in San Fierro. A lot of barrios in San Fierro were just as old as a lot of the LS gangs. The truth was, even though San Fierro was in Northern San An, it was considered a neuteral zone between south side and north side Chicanos. Even if though Ohlone, and a lot of the neighboring cities like Webber, San Andreas or Mercy County, or Pimienta, or Ceniza. Rightfully, it was Northern San Andrean turf but in reality, it was a battleground.

"Not a big deal? Aye cabron.. trying to be a chingone eh? Well I hope you haven't made it to county yet..."

"Hey what can I say, man, I don't look for trouble but it seems to always find me."

"How old are you now anyway?" Asked Yeska "I'm eighteen bro. Just turned a few months ago."

"Hey well I'll catch up with you later, man i gotta go see mi jefita."

He went inside with Esmeralda. "Hey, I want you to stay away from him until he gets his act together, comprende? You can't date a cholo..." She rolled her eyes. "Am i hearing my brother right? You were involved in shit back in the day too, You may not have popped nobody but that doesn't change the facts. You were hanging around. Always low riding and smoking Yeska..."

He knew she was telling the truth. In fact his tendencies as a stoner was what earned him his placa. "Hey, I got my life together. Mama would be proud of me. Theres no reason the rest of these vatos out here don't do the same..."

"You really have been gone a long time...forgotten how it is. It aint just the Vagos, and Aztecas the neighborhood's got problems with. Now it's the Salvadorans and some Paisas too."

"You speak on that like you're a part of the cliqua. You're not and lets keep it that way, eh?"

He went inside and saw his mother. Edna Villalobos was a somewhat chubby but otherwise pretty enough middle aged woman with a kindly face and light brown skin. Her jet black hair had still after all these years not gone gray. She had kind and soft brown eyes, her face did have some wrinkles to them however from worry. She dropped the wash rag and embraced her son. Tears formed in her eyes. "Mi hijo...you've come home!"

He kissed her on the forehead. "Si, mama. I'm home..."

"Look at you...you've gotten so big yet so skinny...didn't they feed you in the Army?"

Heh chuckled. "Si. But I've been in college the last four years. I've been living off raman noodles."

She kissed him again and again on the cheek hugging him tightly. He also looked to see his younger brother Pedro, who was fourteen years old. He also saw his youngest sister, Xochi. Pedro was a dark skinned and lean youngster and tall for his age. He wore a white t shirt and a black cap on backwards. Equally dark in complexion like their father as compared to Esmerlda who took more after her mother being lighter brown, while Javier was intermediate. His younger siblings hugged him and he felt both joy and pain. Joy at seeing them again but pain at remembering the ones that were't here. He had a brother named Rafael the second oldest in the family, four years younger than Smokey, another sister named Maria who was ten years younger than Yeska but he had loved her to death always giving her piggyback rides. Right after he had gone away to fight in the Gulf War, a drive-by had occured. Some Aztecas came by shooting at some Rifas. A bullet had gone through the window striking her in the heart. She had been only eight years old. He hadn't even been able to attend the funeral.

That was where Rafael picked up where Javier had left off. He got put onto the neighborhood swearing revenge. He ended up getting the vato that was said to have done it or at least one of them. During his brief tenure as a gang banger on the streets of Garcia, he was believed to have been behind up to at least six ended up murdering the Azteca that had done it shooting him down at an intersection and he wounded his friend putting him in a wheelchair. This occurred in 1991. He was sentenced to life up for parole in 20 years given the circumstances. He ended up fuckig that up. He went on to brutalize more people from the other side . By 1993, Rafi had become a prospect for joining Nuestra Syndicato. By '95 he was one at 21 years old proving himself over four years. Last year, he had gotten a life sentence witout the possibility of parole when he was validated after shanking a Mexican national who had crossed NS. The paisa had died and he was validated as a member of the prison gang and according to DOC regulations, was sent to the Security Housing Unit where he would live for twenty three hours a day for the rest of his life.

For this, Javier felt tremendous guilt. When papa had died, it was on him to be the man of the house and whether or not vengeance was to be gotten on behalf of Maria, it should have been him doing it. He had done his best to try and look out for all is younger siblings after dad died even if just for a few months but he had failed them all. And as a result, Rafi had grown up too fast and tried to fill his shoes. Now he was more gangster than Javier and if he was to ever get back with the hood, there was a liklihood that he would have to take orders from his own carnnalito. Because of his standing in the prison gang, the younger brother had become the older brother so to speak. But Javier had no intention of getting down with the varrio again. He had been lucky enough so far to have never shot anybody out here and he had already lost two siblings to gang violence and had seen other homies die.

Despite having been a quick tempered hot head on the street as Rafi had been gunning down several Vagos and Aztecas in various hts before he even found out who actually did the drive-by, he leaned to be smarter in prison according to Esmerelda's letters to Javier in college. He had impressed a very strict prison gang, arguably stricter than their rival, La Onda when it came to membership. He had been reading a lot and trying to continue his education inside but it seemed that carnalito hadn't learned enough since he had gotten caught sticking one of his own raza just for a prison gang. Sure, he would be tapping on pipes and using morse code to organize drug deals and hits but for all intents and purposes, Rafi's life was over and he was only twenty two now.

Her eyes were wet with tears. "I thought I'd never see you again...I was glad you were off to college but I kept thinking you would reenlist..."

"It's good to be home..." He said holding on. She turned to him saying, "Esmerelda made you a special dinner..." He was surprised. "Me?"

"Yes. We always make enough just in case you would come home. We knew you'd return to us one day...tu papa...if he could see you now he would be so proud of you!"

They set the table. They were having tacos, brown rice, and chilli with salsa chips. He liked to alternate between dipping it in the salsa he always had with his chicken tacos and dipping it in the chilli itself. They all said grace. "Bless us oh lord from these thy gifts from which we are about to recieve from thy bounty through Christ our lord. Amen."

He took a bite and his eyes went wide. "This is the best thing I've eaten in six years. Serio. Gracias Esmerelda..y mama."

"What are you going to do now that you're back?" Asked Pedro. "I don't know. I mean I got a degree in agriculture so I'm thinking maybe I can look for something in that...all though I may have to settle for something else. It's not like there's that many farms in the Bay Area."

Esmerelda smile. "Try none...farmers market doesn't really count. Neither does community gardens. That's juero steelo."

"Well maybe I can always try for something further into the Central Valley. I want to help out now that I'm back...I...said I was coming back..." With the food he had some Sprunk. "Did you get my letters?"

His mother smiled. "I did get every one but I know you sent some to your sister too. I didn't read hers. I did check one time just to make sure it wasn't from a boyfriend but kids these days they don't take time to write letters. They usually just use telephones or those Two Way pagers. Aye dios mio...Rafi used to have one of those..."

VYeska put a hand over hers. "I know it's hard, mama. And I know I left a bad example for him when I left but...you know I was trying to turn my life around. I thought he would see what I was doing and do the same thing..."

"We all wanted that, mijo...but ever since your father died...he was lost..."

"I know he considered me a malinche for going out and fighting but...it was either that or jail que no? i didn't want to be arrested and stay arrested."

"I can help you get back on your feet manana..." His mother said. "Mr. Rivera is hiring down at the old warehouse in Eastern Basin."

"Si mama. It'll take me a bit to get used to being back but I'll contribute..." He smiled. "Enough about me. How are all of you? Mama, how is your clothing business going?"

She smiled back at him saying, "It has its ups and downs but there has been a lot of migrants down from Mexico. Their wives, they love my clothing! I make them chanklas and jewelry at a low price! Then they tell other friends to come and buy! Even Esmeelda. I made her this jacket last year for her birthday."

He looked at it again and said, "I noticed that, eh. Purple always was her favorite color. Can you make something for men, mama?"

"Of course, mijo! We just have to check what size shirt you are. You've grown so much since I last saw you!" He looked at Pedro and asked, "Wha t about you, hermanito? What have you been up to?"

"Soccer, baseball and basketball...only..."

"Only what?"

"They don't want to let me on the basketball team cause Im short..." Mama said, "But he is a good shot, Necalli. He has the eyes of an eagle! He plays just as good as boys twice his size! You were a basketball player when you were his age. Can you show him some of what you know?"

"Of course! And I'm gonna talk to that coach too. Basketball was invented in Mexico. Who are they to tell us that we can't play because we're not tall enough? They've had guys as short as 5'9 on teams and it shouldnt really matter if you're shorter if you've got a wide body for defense and you can always shoot from a distance and pass, right? That's the thing. You're not going to want to go in for the layups, carnalito. You're more of a three pointer kinda of vato."

"I thought basketball was invented in Canada by James Naismith?" Stated his younger sister. "How would that make sense?" Asked Javier. "Think about it. Rubber balls started here. The original ball game with a rubber ball and a hoop was down there in Mexico. And there was bloodletting. Blood offerings to the gods."

Javier! Don't tell them about that pagano mischief! Bloodletting...aye aye!" He patiently smiled. Despite mama being aware of their heritage as was papa they were Catholics. He imagined it was roughly about the same as African Americans referring to traditional African religion as Satanic witchdoctors even though that was their heritage just as bloodletting to the Gods was theirs.

What's more, the Mexican style of Catholicism had a reference to a lot of stuff like the Lady Of Guadalupe which was said to be a replacement for an Aztec deity, Tonantzin that the Catholics had simply used to convert the tribes more easily. Javier had been raised Catholic too but he still had interest in Pre Colombian religions and he liked to think of himself as a believer in both. Whichever was true it couldn't help to have both the church and the ancestors in your corner.

"Lo siento, mama..." He said with a grin. "Anyway, the point is, they were playing a much harder game back then and they were willing to shed blood to win because losing meant..." He felt mama''s eyes on him. "Orale ma, can I tell the story it's leading to a point..."

She allowed it but kept a close eye. "Point is, you can easily play and beat those fools out there. Because truth is, they might only recruit chantes and pasty white guys from Eastern Europe...kinda like Pistol Pete but they couldn't hang on the toluca, que no?"

"Orale..." Pedro said with a grin. He turned to Xochi. "Y tu? What have you been up to since I been gone? Pedro's playing ball, La Elfa is helping mama with clothing line..." La Elfa was the nickname he had given Esmerlda. Despite being a very pretty woman as she had always been a pretty girl, she'd had ears that were somewhat pointy as a lot of Mexicanas did. Upon calling her a name she hadn't heard in years, this got her to flip him the bird. Xochi stated, "I want to build a space ship that can take us to another planet."

He gave n encouraging smile. "You can do it, Xochi. Reach for the stars. Literally."

She stated, "The way the enviorment is going, we'll probably have to go to another planet just to survive! I'm serious, Javi! We'll either have to go there for good or we'll have to at least go there to get whatever natural resources there won't be anymore..."

Mama kissed her and said, "My angelita she worries too much."

After dinner, they stayed up as late as they coul but mom had to work in the morning as did Esmerelda and she was also in college now. They took him to his room. It was just like when he had left. He saw tthe bunk bed was there and he felt some sadness. He and Rafi had shared a bunk bed and he remembered how when hey were little they used to build forts. "Buenos noches, mama, Esmerelda, Pedro, Xochi..." He hugged them all good night. They all went off to bed themselves and he had a hard time getting to sleep. The memories of his little brother was still all around and he saw posters they had both ad and individual stuff that they had owned. He could see their mother had not gotten rid of Rafi's stuff. But he wasn't a child off to war he was in prison for life. Maybe she thought that just like Javier he would be home one day. Maybe it was grief. Even though he would never get out, she couldn't let go

. Maybe that was just a thing about mother's. They couldn't and shouldn't be expected to. Prisons after all, were not natural. They were a recent invention mostly in terms of the way they were. The quakers had been the ones to come up with the idea of spending a long time behind bars. In the wild west and really most jails for most of history, it was a place you were held while awaiting execution. And that brought him to a darker thought. He wondered if his brother, in the exact same state they were in, not that far away, sleeping alone miles away from family or friends, the love of a woman or his own room and clothes, he wondered if he would rather die than spend life in prison.

Rafi had always liked to go outside so he couldn't see how it wouldn't be hell being in a cell 23/7. He drifted off to sleep.

 _"Villalobos! Cover me! I'm going in!"_

 _"Private, get your ass back here!"_

 _"CORSPMEN!"_

He sat up in a sweat and looked at the clock. Four hours had gone by. He snuck outside after putting on some clothes, a white t shirt and blue jeans. He had a cigarette on didn't know if there was such a thing to be a moderate smoker but if there was, he was it. He only smoked maybe once a week usually once a month only when stressed and he had started ever since the war. He went out on the stoop lighting up. It was around 3 in the morning.

He noticed the hustlers out in their usual spots. He noticed a Chicano male coming his way. He looked to be about his age and he had longer black hair and medium brown skin and his hair was in a Mongolian braid. He wore an aqua blue plaid shirt buttoned up over a red T shirt with only the top button buttoned, a style that North Siders had in common with their enemies in Los Santos. He had almond shaped brown eyes, and heart shaped lips except above his bottom lip was a scar that almost looked like an arrow that went down into his lips looking like an arrow hitting a man in the heart.

He stood at about five eight and had somewhat of a scrawny build but he had muscular arms. He was the same age as Javier was. His real name was Delbert Avecedo but his barrio placa was La Cicatriz due to the arrow shapd scar above his lip. He was his best friend and had been through middle school and High School. They'd played in little league as children too. "Que tal, carnal?! is this you? Fuckin pinche me, man I gotta be dreaming there's no way you're back in town, wey!"

He stood up grinning. "Yeah, I'm back, pues. What's up with you?"

"Fuck, eh you look chingon. You kill anybody over there?" Yesks said, "Im honestly not sure, bro. I shot people but...i don't know."

"Damn and you started smoking too? Since when?" He pulled out a cigarette and lit one and joined him on the stoop. He lowered his voice out of respect to not wake anyone in his family. "I remember back in High School...it was funny, dog. You were smoking blunts and j's like a chimney but when I'd spark up a frajo, man, you'd always make me stand down wind. Now you're sitting on your jefita's porch looking like Marlon Brando, eh? Or James Dean.."

"Times change. People change with it but uh..." He exhaled, "Doesn't look like the neighborhood's changed much."

"Yeah same old shit around here except we got paisas all over our dicks now, man."

"Leave them alone, vato..." Javier said. "At one point or another it took a Paisa crossing over to get us here. Don't forget that. Somos indigena pero not to San Andreas at least not mi familia or yours. Shit, your family originates in Mexico City, right so what the fuck..."

"Hey that'd be easier said than done, bro. I don't know if we started it or they did. Hell maybe we started it. I don't deny the possibility but sabes que you gotta stand by your comaradas no matter what. So even if the Paisano Hermanos started their own shit just to defend against us...I could respect all of that if they left it at beefing with us and the sewer rats equally but when it comes to the two of us they hate us more, man it's some bullshit. They act like South Siders never hated on no fuckin paisas, eh!"

"Yeah but that's pinta politics, bro neither of us want to end up there. Rafi's there for life..."

"Yeah I know and he's a legend around here. He's got mas huevos on the serio..."t go

"Well that doesn't do him a lot of good, bro...i get wanting respect but I'll take cold beer and warm panocha over the joint any day and i know any of you would too. You don't want to become NS, man. They don't even pretend otherwise lke you're gonna have a chance to be a carnal on the streets. They want lifers."

"Hey it's the same with the scrapas, man. We're just real and honest about ours we know there aint no chance we don't end up doing all day. In fact if any of those Ondero bitches are on the streets and not in the pinta, they're not real to me that says they're scared to handle their shit strictly inside if there's any of them on the calles"

"Don't glorify the pinta, bro. This is me you're talking to, man. You don't have to keep that up with me. I knew you before either of us were put on..."

"Yeah but you were put on until you walked away...some people were talking...say you were a leva for walking away. We got more enemigos now than before. Cazo and Hueso were saying you were a chavala...I'd heard you were back but I didn't believe them you know how people like to talk."

"Yeah? Well I get that's your homies and all but you've known me longer. Fuck those pinche putos, bro. If they don't got the cora to say it to my face, they're the chavalas. I didn't punk out. I just saw the light."

"Yeah but what did you even major in?" Asked the cholo. "Agriculture," The longer haired cholo chucckled exhaling smoke. "Around here, Ene? I don't know about that. You say you aint down from the varrio but you're still trying to be a farmer..." Smokey chuckled. "Fuck you..."

"Hey what ate you doing up right now anyway? You aint a hustler I already know that much..."

"I...had a nightmar...from the war..."

"Fuck, that post traumatic stress shit, right? That's gacho...hey you know what though? Therapy is for fags. I got the cure for what ails you..." He pulled out a bag of weed. "Only thing is, I gotta go get some zig zags. You still smoke?"

"It's been a while but yeah..."

"Orale...sit tigtht, I'm gonna go get some...then we can go to my crib and blaze one. Actually you know what? You know where i stay at anyway. Meet me there."

They walked past his apartment on 22nd street and he went to the store a block away. As he waited on his stoop, he watched some of the people walking by. Even at this time of night Garcia was busy and some people were just getting off work. Just then, a dark blue Tornado pulled up and parked. A light brown skinned Chicano with wavy hair in a beanie leaned out. "Hey don't i know you, bro?" He recognized him. His name was Fernando Benavidez. He wore a black plaid jacket and blue khakis plus a Feuds hat that was mint colored on backwards. "Yeska, is that you?"

"Suddenly I'm the most popular man in the neigborhood. What's up, brother? Have'n't seen you in ages."

"Yeah not since that party over on 16th, right? I got that little black haired cutie with the J Lo booty to show you a good time.."

"Yeah I stll owe you for that shit..." He said with a chuckle. "Seriously man, I was getting no love in school and suddenly you're like 'go take care of my homeboy' i aint saying you're a pimp but that's some power..." The guy chuckled. "Hey, we gotta look out for each other, right?" They'd gone to the same High School and had been friends since Freshmen year. "I mean you got game bro I can see that now but back the you were greener than those Grove Street bitches down in Los Santos. But you're a veteran. Ladies love a man in uniform. As for me what can i say even strangers don't even trip when i smack them on the ass. Vatos these days are so bitch made turning into male feminists up at the college nd shit? So when a real ma smacks them on their fat ass it gets their pussy dripping."

"Whatever you say, homes."

Fernando lit a cigarette too but his lighter was out. Javier lit for him. "Hey, seriously man. If you weren't over there getting with some of those hynas i the military, shit you gotta kick it with me again. I can get you rolling in money, and pussy..." Smokey chuckled. "Despite what you may believe, we didn't have any soldiers fighting on our side in Desert Storm. Not yet..."

"Yeah, I heard they shipped you guys off to Africa after that, right?" Smokey nodded. "Yeah. Mogadishu."

"You know, I may got pedo with Tlillipol out here but I actually feel bad for the Somalians man...I heard some veteranos come out here coming back from that. They called them skinnies for slang, right?"

Yeska wasn't proud of it but he confirmed it. "Yeah they did..."

"Well shit, man, they say that the warlords were starving people out but they all look skinny to me. If they got a food shortage i kind of understand why they beefed with Ameica homes! I mean no offense, but we didn't belong over there they should have left it at the UN if anything. Don't want another Vietnam. Maybe they wouldn't have taken shots at you guys if they weren't hungry. I mean I ain no soft touch or anything but it's crazy I see stores throwing away food they got leftover and those poor bastards gotta fight for their next meal. Maybe some warlords did starve people out but can you say that none of the Americanos did?"

"Hey you're preaching to the choir, bro...preaching to the converted..."

"Hey i aint trying to sweat you, man I'm just saying maybe some of those soldiers over there actually saw the Rangers as invaders and maybe they were just regular people defending their own home. I can undertand that..." Yeska told him, "Me too but when people are trying to kill you, everything else just falls away."

The High School friend said, "Hey, that's what i'm doing too, man just defending my home turf too. So I definitly understand them. Even if I don't understand them que no?" He saw the 19th street tattoo on the left side of his neck. He the said, "Hey you still staying where you used to?" He swallowed. "Yeah...hey listen man...if you're a pandillero that's all good. Rafi he got locked up and i know you're from the other side now but you were in jail when I got put on but I didn't end up doing real dirt. I left that shit behind me. I'm back but I aint looking to get mixed up in the war."

"Hey it's all good, man. You and me we knew each other before all that. Besides, I'd heard you got out while I was inside. Good for you. And Rafi...shit I mean I knew him too. He was cool and yeah if we saw each other i mean..it is what it is but I'm telling you it wouldn't be nothing personal with me and I'm sure it'd be the same way back. I got no hate towards him. He did more dirt to 16th street than my hood and don't get me wrong they're my carnales too but now he's the CDC's problem. Hey anyway, fuck that shit. What are you doing for yourself now that you're back? You went to college right?"

"Yeah...got a degree in agriculture. Bachelors."

"Around here?"

He chuckled. "Shit...welll better than me I guess. I'm on parole. Had to toss my cuete before I met my PO too. Otherwise they'd be sending my ass back to Eagle Bay. Anyway, I got a job I gotta get to work in the morning. Condition of release so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we can chill some time again?"

He slapped hands and exchanged a hug with his old friend. "Yeah, I'm down for that."

With that he got back into his car and he felt relief because he saw his best friend coming back and he didn't want there to be any drama. He spotted El Cazo and El Hueso coming up the street, however from the opposite direction and they spotted Fernando. "Hey fuckin scrap! What are you doing in our neighborhood, bitch?!" Cried El Cazo as Fernando started his car. "Fuck you, punk ass chapete! I don't see 24 on the street sign!"

El Hueso punched him in the face and tried to drag him out of the car. He opened the door slamming it open knocking the Rifa back. El Cazo followed up with a punch and the two attempted to jump him. Yeska watched this happen in front of him. The south sider threw a hard punch in the jaw at El Cazo an drove a knee into El Hueso's gut. El Cazo pulled out a switch blade but Fernando reached into the car and pulled out a crow bar and he struck the cholo in the side winding him and he followed up with a blow to the face.

He threw El Hueso against the car and went to try and hit him in the face with the crowbar for a death blow but the cholo ducked last minute and the crowbar hit his own window. He whacked the cholo anyway as he tried to get away and the wounded gangster fell over on the ground writhing. "Fuck Twenty Fourth rankers! We're coming back on you, " He put the gear in drive and started to pull out of there when Yeska noticed his best friend had a .45 Handgun readied. He aimed at the drivers seat and pulled the trigger twice. The first round went through the window and out to the passenger window shattering it. The next round hit Fernando in the face. He slumped against the steering wheel motionless as blood sprayed all over the windshield.

"Fuck what did you do, man?!" Cried Smokey. "Man fuck this pussy!" Screamed El Cazo. "You're supposed to be a veteran?! Look what he did to us an you didn't even help!"

"You had him three to one."

"So? Usually North Siders don't gang up on Mouth Siders. We always go even or with less numbers and we stilll come out on top," La Cicatriz boasted all though Javier had to call bullshit on that. Both gangs showed heart and cowardice at different times. Fernando had shown heart and he had fought hand to hand. He'd even been justified in grabbing a crow bar. It was self defense. Even his parole officer would have understood that much. But his attempt to try and stay clean enough for his parole officer had cost him his life.

La Cicatriz was going to put another bullet in him as El Cazo and El Hueso pulled him from the car and looted his pockets. "Hey fuck this shit, I don''t care if this Va Ho punk's brains is all over this thing. I'm taking this to Pay N Spray and getting it painted red, perro."

El Hueso took the deceased cholos fresh brand new white Eris's off his feet. "Shit these are my size, I'm hella lucky!" El Cazo advised against it. "Not if you wear a dead man's shoes, fool! Even a sewer rat. That shit will come back to haunt you."

"Puro pedo. I'm taking em. He doesn't need em."

He took his shoes off and put them on. He then kicked Fernando in the side. "Not gonna talk shit now are ya? Fucking V Hole faggot!"

"Shut up, you didn't even put the work in on this puto, I did all you did was get your ass beat. Now move outta the way. I wanna dome him just to make sure he doesn't ever get up again."

"That's not nessecary..." Yeska said. "Look, I went to High School with him."

"So? That was before we grew up, man. Life happens the way it happens..." He disagreed. "Scar, he's done!"

"Man, fuck this guy, I say we dump on him too..." El Hueso said. "Fucking rata lover!" Yeska said, "Hey you wanna go motherfucker you wanna call me out let's dance, puto! Que paso?" Scar got between them. "Chale. He may have been gone a long time but this is mi comarada right here...look, let me give you a ride and we can talk this shit out, bro...but first..." He went to put another shot in Fernando's head. "No..." Yeska said. "Carnal don't get in the way of hood business."

"Fuck it, give me the cuete, I'll finish this bitch off!" Screamed El Cazo. There were sirens in the background. "Come on, we gotta get outta here!" El Hueso said. He and El Cazo took off. He had left behind his red high tops and he grabbed the shoes off the street as the two cholos took off with El Hueso wearing the dead man's shoes. "Fucking idiota...I always gotta clean up after them."

"Bro...if our friendship ever meant anything, don't shoot him again. He's already down. Maybe he can still have an open casket funeral."

"Why you care for this V hole so much?"

"We were boys in High School, man. There was a time you wouldn't have gave a fuck he was from 19th street either. He lost me my virginity..."

"Orale..." He grinned. "I can respect that but only cause you were his boy in school. I won't hold back again on your account though but I missed ya."

He whistled to a Rifa that saw this a cholo with a shaved head and dark skin, a goatee and mustache a dark red jersey and black jeans. "Lleva esto al Pay N Spray. Haz que se limpie y vuelva a aplicar. Rojo. Desde que puse el trabajo en él ahora me pertenece. ¿Entender?"

(Take this to the Pay N Spray. Get it cleaned out and resprayed. Red. Since I put the work in it belongs to me now. Understand?)

He did what he was told.

He gave him a ride back deciding he didn't want to smoke with him. "Look, I know this shit is hard to get used to and I'mm not saying you gotta get down with us. I'm just saying if you live around here you gotta realize shit doesn't change. It just gets worse. Now you said that's Fernando right? He killed one of my comaradas three years ago. He also pistol whipped two peewees from our neighborhood like last month. It aint my fault he came around here and was slipping. He should have known better."

Truthfully, all though the Rifas claimed the streets between 24th and 19th as their own, so did 19th street and therefore it was not Rifa territory anymore than it was Vago or Azteca territory. It was disputed turf. He was right he was slipping but techniclly he had as much right to be there as they did. Luckily, he'd seen somebody, a brave soul from Honduras giving Fernando CPR so maybe he might pull through.

"Yeah it's just...I can't help but think about it different ya know? I know I shot back at fuckers trying to shoot me but I didn't hit anybody. I wish it didn't have to be like this. I had my share of war watching friends die. Remember Freddy from the neighborhood? He was in Kuwait with me. He got his head blown off. This shit is just as pointless."

"Maybe it is bro but that ship has sailed. You're about thirty years too late to have a problem with it. Look, if i was in Los Santos, I would be expecting a valla between my eyes okay? Because that's not my city not my hood. It's downstate. Now they might have a lot of numbers showing up in Northern San An cities like a rat infestation but the shouldn't expect any different from me. Your goal over there in Iraq, right? It was to liberate Kuwait? Well let me tell you my mission. To dead every scrapa in the state. Azteca, Vago, Marabunta I dont give a fuck. We're the real raza. They're not. They're traitors. I plan to personally kill every one of them and if I can't I'll die trying but someday I know this. Mark my words. Rifas WILL wipe them out from this state and we'll be the only brown cliqua in the state and that'll be firme cause unlike them we're real. We can run small towns or big cities. I've been to the slammer. Some of the original NS vatos were from LS so LS is gonna be ours again. You tell me not glamorize it? i know it aint pretty but you and me we're in prison outside or in. And those fuckers in there showed no mercy I had to fight for my life in there. Why should that punk be any different? He fought and he lost. That's all there is to it."

As Yeska got out he said, "Nobody's asking you to come back to the cliqua. I don;t see you as a coward like Cazo and Hueso. They're stupid. Loyal but stupid. But that means you should get a job doing...whatever you know? Me, this is all I got. You always liked cars why don't you become a mechanic like your jefito? Or do the farm thing...but unless you're staying on the straight and narrow like your family, when it comes down to us or them next time you can't be fence riding, bro. Besides, with your sister dating a Rifa it's hard to keep away from this completely. But if you want, I'll talk to him tell him to leave her alone. Otherwise, if you really are back, then it would be hypocritical of me to tell him not to date her when you're living the same life as he is. So think it over alright? I'll talk to Cazo and Hueso and tell em shut the fuck up. But don't ever try and get involved again entiendes?"

"Yeah. I hear you."

He sighed as he snuck back in, got out of his clothes and into bed. _I need a cuete..._ he thought. _I should have stayed in Vice City. At least down there I was staying outta trouble._

 _Las Venturas, San Andreas_

 _Bust_

Imala Blackfox was working her usual shift at the Four Dragons Casino. She had once worked at the rez back home on the Paiute reservation but she had gotten a job out here and she wanted to live in Venturas for a while. She was twenty four years old and had light brown skin with a yellowish tint to it and she stood at five foot nine and had almond shaped brown eyes. She was petite but also had wide hips and a moderate sized butt that was getting bigger.

She had worked for a blind man who had run this casino before but he was away. In China for some reason she wasn't quite sure of. The Calliguila Casino had been robbed four years ago and there was a belief that the Triads had been behind it. She didn't know if that was really true but it could be. Whatever the case, the mafia did believe it. But luckily, the Leone Family, the Sindacos and the Forellis were out of Las Venturas and their own shares in various casinos were lost and given to legitimate casino owners. Gone were the days of overt Mafia rule in the city. Though there were rumors that the much older Mafia families such as the Five Families out of Liberty City who had once tried their own hand at operating here back in the 60's were back but much more low key. It didn't really matter to her.

She was not involved in criminality. She did know how to defend herself, however. She had once been raped when she was seventeen and ever since she had been taking kickboxing classes and learning to shoot. She was not a cop or a soldier but she could handle herself. She had never found the man who did it and neither had the cops but she wanted to get revenge on him one day.

She was working as a blackjack dealer on the main floor. She was shuffling cards and those at the table were a well dressed white lady wearing a blonde sparkly dress and a diamond necklace with blue eyes and red lipstick. She was about 5'6 in height. There was also a black male in a tuxedo looking like a high roller with his Crowex watch he stood at six feet. He had silver stud earrings and he had coffee colored skin and looked to be in his early thirties. Another player was an African American male wearing a white t shirt a gold chain and baggy blue jeans. He was Imala's height. There was also a Mexican American man with dark brown skin and spiky black hair wearing a gold t shirt and black slacks and lastly was a Korean American woman wearing a white blouse under a black jacket and blue jeans and she had her dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

She began to deal them out. "Place your bets..." Called out Imala. The first lady put down $1000, the second, the man in the tuxedo put down $653. It was the woman's turn first. Imala ha Queen and a King. The lady had a queen and a ten as she revealed."

"Twenty..." Imala called out. Because of this the woman won a thousand. The African American male wagered $2000 and he had two aces and a ten. "Two or twelve..." Imala said. She had the two and the two but revealed the 5 next. The man lost $2000. "Aw shit!" He grumbled. Just then the sound of automatic gunfire filled the air as six armed and masked assailants came through. They all had black tuxedos on. "Everybody on the fucking floor nobody move a muscle!" Screamed the leader who was carrying an M4. One of the security guard's attempted to draw his pistol but was quickly met with lead. "The fuck did I just say?!" Screamed the man. Imala got down as did the people at the blackjack table.

The men began to get to the back room to go for the safe and one of the men put the Rifle to the back of the floor manager, a Chinese American male named Jian Quing who stood at five seven with jet black spiky hair, golden brown skin and a thin athletic frame. He was in his early thirties. "Move it, asshole! We're going to the safe!"

"Do you know who's money you're taking?! This is a very big mistake!" The man hit him in the back knocking him to the ground with the butt of the Rifle. "You should be more worried about who's doing the taking."

The men went and began shaking people down as they went to each customer. They began taking wrist watches, jewelry and wallets. The leader yelled, "Get that fuckin vault open!"

Two armed Triads that were really just working as security there, came with weapons drawn but they too were quickly hit. One of the robbers was a Caucasian male with cold gray eyes. He ordered Imala, "You. On your feet!"

He reached under her white and black uniform ripping the necklace from her neck which was turquoise. "Hey my old lady likes these. This is the real deal isn't it? Not that new age crap."

"Take my wallet but give me that back! That's my grandmother's...!"

"Oh well in that case..." He hit her with the butt of the gun knocking the wind out of her. "Shut your mouth and stay down...there's been enough bloodshed for one day."

The leader then yelled, "TIME!"

"Two minutes!" Shouted back one of his men. Just then the power was cut off. Everybody screamed and started panicking. She saw the men had on some kind of device that let them see in the dark. One of them grabbed her friend, a Chinese American woman by the name of Lana Ma a petite and somewhat mousy looking Chinese American woman with glasses long black hair and almond shaped black eyes but despite her looks she was actually outgoing despite looking shy. They were taking hostages. The man who had lost 2 grand lit a lighter as he was ducked behind the black jack table. "Do these assholes really think they're walking out the front door?!"

She grabbed the Handgun off a deceased guard, and she asked him, "Shine it here! Please!" They were trying to stay low and keep quiet as she checked the magazine. "You're not thinking of being a hero are you?! These motherfuckers will blow your head off you see those Rifles?!"

"I don't care..." She stated. "That's my friend... and they got my grandmas necklace," She came out aiming for the man who had her friend. She wasn't sure if he was the one who had her grandmas necklace but she was pretty sure it wasn't as that guy was several inches taller. She opened fire striking the man in the left thigh from the side. He opened fire in her general direction and luckily he was careful to not try and shoot any other patrons but he did drop Lana. Lana scurried to cover and the wounded robber tried to shoot Imala and he hit the black jack table. She came out on the other side from his right and fired striking him in the abdomen six times. He had body armor on but a seventh round struck him in the hip and he fell over. She fired again strikng him around the belt line and he fell. One of his friends picked him up and she saw the man that she suspected was the one who took her necklace was helping his friend up.

She fired at him and he fired back at her forcing her to cover behind a craps table. They were leaving through the service bay door and she suspected that they were trying to get out by the parking lot down below. Lana was in safety but they had still gotten away. "Are you crazy you could have gotten killed!" Imala cried. "But...thanks...I owe you..."

"Fuck, I am so going to jail...I think..."

"Fuck that..." Lana stated. "I'm going to vouch for you we all will. Maybe they'll take you to the station to question you but you saved my life. They already killed Taylor and Vince. Who knows what they would have done with me?"

"They've still got more hostages..." She said.

By the time the lights came on, they were all gone.

 _Two Hours Later_

She ended up giving her police report and saying what was stolen. She would be following them to the station to answer more follow up questions. She hadn't been told yet if they would be arresting her or not but she was told by Jian that it was technically legal to shoot somebody not only in self defense but in the defense of others.

Luckily, the hostages that the remaining five robbers had taken with them were released off the Redsands East Highway and had not been harmed. The fact that they had killed bodyguards and taken hostages but had not harmed the hostages made Imala wonder if they were amateurs or pros. Or somewhere in between. Then again, the lights had been shut off and the last time somebody did that, they did that at the Dam. Just like the Caligula job in '92, however, the backup generator had come back on.

All the other witnesses and patrons were also questioned and checked to see if they needed medical attention. She turned to Jian. "I'm not sure if I can keep working here. I appreciate the job opportunity but that was my grandmother's necklace she made for me!"

"This is why we say don't wear jewelry to work unless under the shirt..." She replied, "I did that, Jian. I hid it under and they still got it. I can't let them get away with it. My grandma died ten years ago. It's one of the few things I have to remember her by aside from some old clothes and pictures."

"Look, we'll let the Las Venturas Police Department do their investigation. But we're going to do our own. It's unusual that we would let a Laowai help in such matters but seeing as you've been a good worker for us and I know what you are capable, of maybe we'll see. While unusual it wouldn't be the first time it's happened."

She recalled. "I might know some people too...on the other side of the law. But I really just want my stuff back..."

"As do we...I'm going to give you an address. Show up there tomorrow at 8 PM sharp. As for your shifts, after what you've been through and your discretion with knowing what's been going on behind the scenes, you've earned yourself some time off. Paid of course."

Bone County

The man who had been shot at the casino lay on the table in pain as a surgeon tried to get the bullets out of him. He was a dark skinned Caucasian male with brown hair and brown eyes standing at five eight. The surgeon grabbed a syringe to try and inject him with something but the man pointed his Beretta at him. "What the fuck's that for?"

The doctor told him, "You want me to give it to ya straight? That bullet has lodged into your thigh and it's in too deep. I can't do anything for ya aside from give you something for the pain. You already lost too much blood and anything else would just cut your femural artery and kill ya anyway. I wish there was something else I could do...I did my best..."

"I should kill you..." The robber stated. "Alright...give my cut to my sister and the kids..." He injected him with the needle. "You want the light on or off?"

"Off..." The robber said with a stressed out sigh knowing he would be asleep soon and would not wake up. "Mitch..." He told the doctor just before he faded out, "You tell the other fellas...the bitch that shot me...I want her dead."

* * *

 _And now we've got to character 5 and 6. So Javier is visually based on Benjamin Bratt I know that Zilla used that actor as the basis for Felix in New Arcadia and I admit I'm using him too but for all intents and purposes Benjamin Bratt is from the Mission District which Garcia, San Fierro is based on. I was initially going to have one of the non south side affiliated brown characters be an SOS member instead but the reason I didn't is lack of interest at least for this story plus the Samoan and Tongan gangs in America don't seem to have any gangs that are strictly Polynesian and not copying crips and bloods. I mean you have American Indian and Mexican bloods and crips too but of these ethnic groups you also have gangs that are strictly rez or barrio and besides it has been said I've used south siders in a lot of my GTA stories but i didn't in Wastn none of the main characters are affiliated with that in terms of membership and in this I thought why not have a North Side character too?_

 _Also I can tell you all finally what the etymology of chapete means in terms of disrespect to Nortenos. While it can be used as a context of a vagina it actually means red faced meaning a crybaby a bitch._

 _You're already going to ask how a North Sider and a South Sider like Eldora will work together in heists down the line. They won't at first but remember this story does span between roughly 1996 and 2010. So some will possibly dropout from their respective gangs or others will just be kinda halfway like Franklin with the Families or Gustavo with the Vagos. I'm thinking most likely I might have Javier drop out eventually and I won't say why but it also won't be for a long time. And the jury is still out if he'll just be a Rifa or if he will be a Nuestra Syndicato member the way his brother is. I decided to have him have a brother doing life because just like in San Andreas with Carl you have mention of Brian but we never see him and he's dead. I could have went that route but instead I had it be he had one sister murdered and a brother inside so in a sense it's like he's dead but he's not._

 _As of right now, I wanted to show at this early stage Javier is not back on the set just yet but he will be this is just showing the conflicting friendships of growing up in an area where you might have known people from both sides and the shooting of Fernando is actually based on a real shooting that happened in the Mission District where a Sureno had a crowbar and a Norteno shot him while he was in his car._

 _Imala I did not have an actress in mind for visually but personality and looks wise I based her off this youtuve video of this lone Native female protestor who is counter protesting a bunch of white guys and a Chinese lady who is bitching about illegal immigration and she was just so awesome because she told them if they're not us then they're illegal. So I kind of based her off that and I made her Paiute because Paiutes are indigenous to Nevada and California and that's a tribe I haven't done anything with before. Also her name Imala means Disciplines. And Blackfox is her last name which in the Paiute language is Inola but I don't know having her be named Imala Inola might seem strange in a sense name symmetry wise so I just had the English translation of it be her surname. Last names are a European construct anyway but I like thename Imala and Inola but I could only pick one._

 _As for Eduardo he is visually based on the deceased rapper Speedy Loc, Wino is visually based on the rapper Sir Dyno. Not sure about El Cazo or El Hueso just yet. Or even Scar. I haven't decided who he is visually inspired by but I wanted him to look like your stereotypical Norteno gang member and in a way he's Javier's best friend and while smarter than Cazo and Hueso he's more trigger happy than Wino who is a wiser older gang member. So in that sense, he's like a Norteno version of O Dog from Menace II Society which K Loc in the first chapter already is based on O dog but I'm just saying that is what he is to Javier as is Loc to JD. Speaking of JD I haven't decided if I should have him join the Orange Groves or just have him be a hitman that does jobs for them and is closest to them but not a gang member. As in he's just affiliated._

 _So Webber San Andreas is based on Stockton California, Mercy is based on Merced, Pimentia is based on Salinas and Ceniza is based on Fresno. Webber is the name of the guy who named Stockton which made it the first California community to not have either a Native name or a Spanish name. Mercy and Merced both mean mercy, Pimentia means pepper since Salinas means Saltworks and Cinizia is Spanish for Ash since Fresno means Ash Tree. Ohlone, San Andreas is based on Oakland California which I used in Concrete Jungle and that is set in the same universe._

 _The slang word that Fernando used TLILLIPOL is Nahuatl for blacks. Ixpol means Northern so if ou're an Ixpolero you're a North Sider. Nortenos call themselves this while Surenos are Kanpoleros. In a way that is the Spanishizing of Nahuatl words by adding ero at the end but you can still get the meaning from it anyway._

 _The scene with the robber on the surgery table is based off a scene from Fire With Fire when an Aryan Brotherhood member gets shot and he basically can't stop the bleeding so he knows he's done for._

 _So now that all six have been introduced, the next chapter I'm gonna show what's up with Eldora and JD and their adjustments into their neighborhood. With Las Venturas, since the Italian mafia doesn't use female hitmen (But the Sicilian mob actually does it's the American mob that doesn't) and I wanted Imala to be a determined and spirited woman but also as of now be more of an independent criminal, I thought I would have her start off working with the Triads trying to find a way to get her personal item back plus their money. Who do you think ripped them off? Stay tuned. And thanks for the support those who have followed this._


	4. Another Day Another Body

52nd Street, South Los Santos

He met O Loc and Dimebag back in the hood. "So how we finna do this? You jumping me in or what?"

Dimebag shook his head as he puffed on a spliff. The dread locked gangster wore a Corkers cap on backwards but he'd painted it orange out of disrespect to the Families. He also wore a orange and white plaid shirt and white khakis plus his Loc Down sunglasses that was typical of gangsters around there. "Nah, you cool, Grove. You too old to be getting jumped in like a youngin but if we bless you on theh set it's just when it's time to ride it's time to ride you feel me? No questions asked when it's time to do something that's all there is to it."

"Hey I'm good with that if it helps me bury those bitch ass niggas that killed Jana."

"The one time been talking to you?" Asked K Loc. "Not for at least a week. I mean...up until all this shit...I was on the straight and narrow. I told them what happened so...look I aint snitch not really..look I was outta the hood..."

"Look chill..." Dimebag said. "We'll let that shit slide for now cause you weren'ts staying in the motherfucking hood when it happened and you were a civilian but from here on out? If you with us you don't talk to five oh. Period. No snitching ever not even on enemies. I never understood niggas that snitch on other sets just as get back when the strap works just fine and is a hell of a lot cheaper..."

"So what you need me to do?"

"Aight look, them niggas that funked with you were from Chamberlain. Whenever you see any of them, it's on on sight but for now we gotta see what you made of so we're taking a little trip on over to Carson. Get shit cracking in Crystal Heights."

"Carson Ave, huh?"

A dark skinned black male with curly hair wearing neuteral colors but who was all the same, hood royalty, named Stick cause of his tendency to smoke on ten dollar sticks before a drive-by, walked up. He wore a black denim jacket and baggy black jeans. He was kind of a jokester around the hood but he was also a killer when it was time to be. Accordig to O Loc he was good for at least half a dozen bodies. Three Families and three Ballas. He was EBK to the fullest. Just like they all were. He was twenty six years old damn near OG status but not quite. He'd done five years at Boilingbroke so in many regards he was OG in status but not by age.

"So college boy is finna hoo ride, huh?Now this shit I gotta see. Last I heard you was damn near a white boy now."

"Nigga, I'm darker skinned than your ashy ass you got something to say spill it. I aint in the mood for no bullshit."

"Don't matter. You been off in the suburbs in college and shit...then first thing happens when you come back to the hood you and your bitch get shot?" JD started to get in his face but Stick pulled a 9mm out and pulled the slide back. "Do something then...I'l whoop your ass all day every day but I just got these new kicks I aint trying to get them dirty so today you'd pick the wrong day but it aint no thing to me..." He said wit a chuckle. Dimebag ordered, "Put that shit away, cuz. JD's the homie. Now look he does raise a point though I mean we all had love for your girl but I mean if you just getting down for this it can't just end at that. Trip. Niggas that aint nessecarily put on the hood will still kick it and do dirt every now and then so maybe you should think on this shit. You aint got to get put on to Orange Grove I mean I'm still with you but this aint a game and it aint no getting out so maybe you'd just rather clap the niggas that did that shit and leave it at that. And thats cool with me but first you gotta still be able to pop your cherry on a nigga that you don't know cause otherwise you can't do it when it comes down to it and if you hesitate he will dead your ass."

Just then a light skinned bald black male with mean brown eyes and muscules on top of muscles wearing a black wife beater and gray khakis who was doing reps on his weights in the garage of his yard called them over. They walked over. From what he know about him, the man, Vince Washington, known on the streets as Hercules sat up. "You about to take youngin to put in work?" He was an OGF original and he had done fed time for shooting a Baller from South Side Rancho in the left eyeball with a .22 Revolver. He was in his mid fories and had done twenty years for it having just gotten out of prison in '95. When he had been OGF back in '75 a year or two after the rivalry between the Familes and Ballas went from fist fights, to bricks and bats to shootings in '73, he had been in several shootouts for the gang and in thos days Orange Grove was still under the Families umbrella and wouldn't be split up until after '79 when he was already in prison for the shooting.

He'd been twenty five at the time of the shooting ad had already had a long rap sheet. He'd done time in juvie for participation at the age of fifteen for his role in the '65 riots when he had thrown a beer bottle at a cop requiring him to get twenty stitches and lose sight in his left eye. By eighteen, he had already served sixteen months for that assault even though he got broken ribs and a concussion as a result of it. Orange Grove was already an established South Central gang but the Families would not be estalised until 1969 but he had already been a gang member for a few years. By 1968, following the assasination of civil rigts leaders he had participated in rioting again but this time upgraded to armed robbery.

He would spend the next four years in prison this time after holding up one of the few white owned businesses still left in Davis, a liqour store on 155th street. Upon his release from prison, despite being in several shootouts the next three years with the Ballas, as well as a number of fist fights and though the cops had harassed him in those three years he had been clean for every run in with the law. "What's up, Herc?" Asked O Loc. "So you're taking youngster to do some dirt, huh? Well I want a say in this shit. There's a little motherfucker from the Carson's neighborhood I want 's who he's taking out."

He whispered to Dimebag and Dimebag listened and then nodded. They got into a silver '86 Greenwood. "Let' roll..." Dimebag then said, "Hey cuz I think you should drive, man. Need to make sure you still got functioning motor skills after what you went through." As they drove, the song It's On by Eazy E played.

"Nigga, I didn't get crippled I'm still walking..." JD grumbled back. He then replied, "Yeah? Good. Take this shit..." He handed him a Browning 9mm. "Since you been trying to live suburban on us I'ma assume you don't know how to use one of these, JD...so this piece got 13 in the pipe."

"Yo gimme that here..." Stick said. Dimebag and O Loc looked back at him. "I'll show cuz how to use this motherfucka..." They did and the dark skinned gangster said, "Aight, pay attention. This hammer right here? You pop that back when you ready to start bucking. This thing is a semi automatic so when you bust on somebody it's only gonna bust as much as you do. Let me ask you this. Is you left or right handed?"

"Right..." Replied JD. "Cool. So check this here..." He handed him the piece. "You're gonna put your middle finger from your stronger hand on the trigger. If you gotta pull with your weaker hand, then I'd use the index. It's longe than the index."

"So?"

"So it's easier to put the crease on the first and second crease on the finger. Plus the tendon that flexes the middle finger runs more directly from front to back than the pointer. That's gonna save your ass when you have to use a strap with the double action. But for now we'll just stick to the basics. The middle finger also is also stronger than the index finger which helps to make for a smooth and true pull of the trigger even with resistance. Using the middle finger to pull the trigger, allows for direct communication with the nerves that control the flexing or bending of the fingers. That is not true when the index finger is used to pull the trigger."

"Nigga how the fuck you know this shit?" O Loc asked. "You sounding more like a book worm than even him!"

"Cause I read in the pen my nigga. I got a skeletal map of the whole human body in that book and I leaned what everything does. That's why some of the other brothers might have taken a L in prison from everybody else but they don'tr know I know."

"Yeah until you end up smoking away whatever shit you learned up in there. Shermhead ass..." O Loc said. "Shit I'm surprised you aint use them book papers for rolling papers."

"Ya'll wanna learn something or keep talking shit? here are two nerves (Median and Ulnar), that control the flexing or bending of the fingers. Each one controls only half of the hand. One supplies the thumb side of the hand, and the other supplies the little finger side of the hand.

As the middle finger is in the middle of the hand, one side of it is supplied by "the thumb side" nerve, and the other side is supplied by the "little finger side" nerve. So when the middle finger is used to pull the trigger, it is in direct communication with both nerves.

Also, the extension of the first two pads of the fingers, is also controlled by those two nerves. This is an exception to their main function of controlling flexing or bending actions.

They stopped at a red light and out of the corner of his eye, JD saw a C.R.A.S.H. cruiser rolling by. "Shit it's the one time!" The other three black males ducked down. "What the fuck are ya'll doing?"

.

"One nigga in a bucket in South Central aint no thang..." Stick replied. "Four is another story. Just play it cool, Grove!"

O Loc said, "That's two pigs it's four of us. I'm good with those odds, partna..." Dimebag promptly told him to shut up.

"Yeah unless they pull me over then they're gonna see the three of you ducked down and we all look even more suspect!" They shined the light on him and Dimebag urged the other two, "Shhhh!"

He blinked in the blinding light but he knew it was the routine on these streets. Living in a San Andreas cage so to speak. There was two of them for sure. One was Chicano a brown skinned man with jet black hair slicked back and a black mustache and goatee. His partner was a white guy with a shaved head and blue eyes but originally had curly black hair. "You smell that partner?" The one with hair said. "Soething's going down tonight. Street assholes like this jack buckets like that for a little 187. Then they get rid of it."

"He'd be pretty fuckin stupid to try anything in somebody else's neighborhood. It's just one guy. Besides, we want ghetto boys around here driving those pieces of shit. If he was in a Cheetah then I'd say we pull him over."

"Nah, you didn't grow up around here, Todd. I did. It smells like blood in the air tonight. You know how I know? Cause I smell fuckin copper"

"You sure you're not just having your menstrual cycle?"

"Fuck you, cabron."

They pulled up alongside. "Hey you okay?" Asked the Chican officer. "Yes sir...officer..."

"Where you headed? Where you from?" Demanded the white cop. "I'm a student at ULSA. Headed home. I was just visiting my grandmama sir."

"Where's she live?"

"Over on 84th street, sir," He lied. "Well this is a bad neighborhood. Your grandma should move outta here. This is a bad place to be this time of night. Lot of car jackings," The one with hair said. "Keep your doors locked. I understand family is important kid but this is a bad part of town. You have a nice night."

With that the light turned green and he drove off. With that they stuck their heads back up and were loud again. "Damn homie nice save!" O Loc cried. "I swear I was abut to shit on myself, man."

Stick chuckled. "Have a nice night?" Stick couldn't believe it either. "Man they treated ya ass like you were from Morningwood aint that a bitch?"

Dimebag warned "Don't get too used to that. I know them one times, bro. That was Officer Velez and Hendrickson. They be throwing the book at niggas over bullshit. Don't let them even catch you in the wrong sports jersey let alone colors."

They finally pulled over past the bus stop near Carson. As they rode by a sea of black faces from inside the projects stared back at them and JD could tell a lot of them were Carsons. "Where you from, nigga?"

A Carson gangster in a Corkers cap with a Navy blue and green plaid shirt on followed them as they drove away. "Nah come on back, fool! Have a drink, cuz! Yeah that's right...get the fuck outta here, bitch!" He tossed a bottle at the back of the car and it shattered. They tore off and the gang member and his friends jeered at the perceieved cowardice. "Mark ass..."They pulled over near the bus stop. They saw a young black male in a beige cap with dark skin wearing a similiar colored jacket over a white t shirt and baggy khakis. "Aight homie you see that bitch right there? That's the motherfucker Herc was hollerin at me to have you deal with."

"He aint in colors. Why he taking the bus if he's from the hood?"

"One time took that shit to the Davis Impound. Besides you know it's a gang of niggas thugged out on buses anyway. And don't let that colors shit fool you. Only the BG's are walking that loud they want everybody to know where they from. He's flying casual cause he don't want the five oh to jack him up again. That nigga right there? He blasted on a youngin from the neighborhood. Died right in Herc's arms. Seven year old boy hit right in the face, man. That's the little bitch that did it. He thinks that nigga was there to pop his cherry in our hood but he missed and hit a kid. Still gotta get them back for that."

"What about them knuckleheads back there?"

"Hey don't worry about that we about to bust a U and see if they're still hard..." He was handed the 9mm and it was already cocked back. "Don't bitch out on us, I vouched for you,."

They turned around going up the street but JD called back as quietly as possible, "Ya'll better not leave me you better come back!" He followed the gang member up the street. He made his way past the Crystal Heights apartmentt and he ducked behind a bush when the gang member turned around to look. He came back up when the gangster kept making his way up the street. JD's heart was pounding as hard as it had been the night he was shot. He carried the pistol readied in his sweaty palm in his right hand. He wondered if the Carson gangster was packing. Would they end up in a shootout? If they did, he'd be at a disadvantage. He'd never shot anybody before and surely this guy had. In fact he was told he had even if he had been a shitty shot hitting a kid on accident, he didn't want to be standing around when he got to be a better shot.

The guy turned a corner and JD wasted no time. He put a pistol to the back of his cap as the two men stood just off the street in the alley lit only by the dim moonlight shining over South Central. "Sup, nigga?" The gangster flinched and tried to turn around but he growled, "Don't fuckin move!" He felt him until he got in his wallet. "Two hundred dollars, huh nigga? You clocking that bank motherfucker?"

"Yo man I aint do nothing! I don't bang! Aint Baller or Families, dude! I work for a living..."

"Don't give me that bullshit! You killed a little kid in my neighborhood bitch! You ready to die?"

" ..! I'm telling you, man it aint like that! What hood? I aint killed nobody!"

"52 Neighborhood Orange Grove and don't play dumb!" The youngster said, "What?! But I don't even go to that side of town I don't know anybody out there! You got the wrong nigga, man!"

He then said, "Hold up, man...don't I know you from somewhere...?" JD told him, "Alright look I'm gonna pop this off and you're gonna run. Or you can play dead," He saw a drunk in the alley had seen him with the gun to his head but the guy had ducked into a dark corner. "Hold up..JD...?" He panicked and he didn't know if he pulled the trigger. He didn't remember doing it and he felt like he hadn't but the next thing he knew, the gang member fell over face down on the ground with a bullet wound in the back of the head brain matter decorating the brim of his backwards hat which was just above where the entry wound went.

He ran back to the street. Meanwhile, as al of this happened, the Carson gangster who had thrown the bottle at the car was sitting there talking to a Carson Avenue female he was trying to get with. She wasn't in a gang but she was a hang around hoo rat. "I'm saying baby why can't we go up in your crib slap on a glove and hit the skins? Shit aint nothing better to do..."

"Oh so what..." The girl a light brown skinned ebony with curly hair that had a redduish tint to it said. She wore a light blue halter top on under a forrest green Lettermans jacket and blue jeans. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail. "You only feeling me when you bored and want to nut huh? Nigga please I aint fuckin witchu."

"Girl I was just playing with you why you gotta be like that? Look I aint no criminal. I aint a bad guy and you been down with me before."

"Yeah but I'm getting tired of all the sorry ass losers trying to get with me. I aint no gold digging ho but on the other hand I don't respect nobody that don't got stability on their end. Me, I'm trying to get up outta the hood."

"Where you gonna go? Haiti? Africa? Belize? Jamaica? Come on, Maisha you aint doing no better than us. You always talking about building that uh...salon, right? A place for bitches to get their perms did..."

"Nigga I'm honestly trying to get women to be getting theirs natural but it aint none of your business...ll you ever do is start shit with niggas from other neighborhoods!"

"Hey, I'm trying to do right by you and all the other fly ass ladies up in here. Cause them niggas in that hooptie they could have been rapists or something like that. For real that's how niggas do females like that it's a gang of them. Really you should be thanking me cause we do what the police don't we actually look after the hood."

"Oh really? Then I guess one time is who be tagging the walls peeing in the halls, and shit? Come on, Jarell. You know these niggas straight savage out here. You and me go back bit what you really doing to better yourself?"

The Greenwood pulled up and and Dimebag had a Tec-9 in hand while O Loc had a Remington 870. Stick had two Browning HP's just like he had given JD. "What's up now, fool! Break yourself nigga!" Screamed O Loc as he let a Carson banger with cornrows wearing a green basketball jersey have in up close in the chest. Dimebag sprayed up a five man group with the Tec striking three people down instantly. One of them was a heavy set black woman with dark skin and her hair in long braids wearing a dark green tank top and black jeans. The rounds hit her in the chest the first three hitting her left nipple while the next five hit her in the right breast and she fell over droppin a 40 ouncer on the grass. The blood from her mouth sprayed out mixing with the foamy alcohol on the ground.

The next to take a hit was a youngster in his mid twenties or so with light brown skin, of Habasha ancestry wearing a dark green jacket and a white t shirt and blue jeans. He fell over bleeding as three rounds struck him in the groin and six more struck him in the waist. He fell on the ground shitting himself, dropping the spliff he'd had in one hand and the .357 he reached for when the shooting started in the other. "What's up now you bitch?!" Taunted O Loc as he got out of the car not even caring the car hadn't stopped. "Take the plate out your lip, punk!"

"Bro, what the fuck you doing?!" Cried Dimebag. The third person to take a fall was an African American with light brown skin and a shaved head and hazel eyes a muscular build standing at six feet. He wore a black wife beater and brown khakis and had a light green bandanna over his neck. He was hit in the solar plexus with seven rounds. O Loc put the shotgun in the mouth of the dying Ethiopian. "Yeah I've seen your ass before. This is for woofing on my hood..." He put the shotgun past his lips and pulled the trigger and blood sprayed everywhere as did brain matter and skull fragments as his face was literally split apart. Jarell took four shots in the chest even as he tried to fire back as the Greenwood pulled to a stop.

The three Orange Grove gang members had ski masks on however so as not to give away what gang they were from even though Jarell had seen their faces. Stick howled with a maniacal craze as he fired six shots from each handgun striking the next two gang members of the five that had been displaced by Dimebag's Tec. O Loc ran up to see JD frozen at what he had just done. "Hey man, come on nigga we gotta bail! Come on!" He pumped another load and he saw the drunk man that had witnesses the shooting. O Loc aimed at him. "Hey what you see?"

"I didn't see nothing..." Rasped the wino. "I've just had too much to drink."

"Motherfucker I don;t know that shit for sho!" He fired the Remington striking the man in the upper legs and he fell bleeding and O Loc yelled, "But I do now!"

The man fell over screaming and Dimebag demanded, "Nigga what the fuck you shoot the drunk for?" O Loc sneered as they got into the car tearing off. "Fuck him he aint nothing but a bum any way. Don't nobody care if they get blasted. Not even they family cause if they did they wouldn't be out on the streets."

JD was too shaken up by what he'd done to say or do much so Dimebag drove the car. "Hey homie, we gotta get rid of this ride where you want us to drop you off?" Asked Dimebag. JD finally broke his silence in hoarse voice. "Uh...shit I don't know...just take me to a hotel, man. Whatever one's closest."

"You sure you don't want a lift back to your dorm room? You know you could still go to college my nigga it aint a bad idea and you look less suspiscious. You went through some shit but you look more legit going to class by day. The one time aint even suspect you like the average motherfucker around here."

JD thought, _Shit, I always thought it was the educated brothers they wanted dead for being a threat. Guess I'm a threat educated or not but I don't see no point in going to school no more. I wasn't just there for Jana but after all that's happened I don't think I can focus on studies anymore._

"Hey naw fuck that you don't see me around no bitch ass school. You don't need that shit, homie. School is for dumb asses and a waste of time. Even a motherfucking GED is stupid. The fuck I need that shit for? I get more scrilla than those square niggas trying to be middle class like the shit is funny."

JD knew the more logical choice was to listen to Dimebag. Whether he was to be a full gang mmber or not, staying in school was smart but at the same time part of him wanted to listen to O Loc. "Shit you ask me it's a waste of time too. The odds are against you and even if you make it so what? You'll be the only motherfucker from the hood there. What you got to realize is college, High School or GED, they don't hold the keys to whatever you learn. You don't need formal schooling, boy! The streets is your school. You want to read a book read a book. Nobody stops you from going to the library. Do that instead of spending money on books. But hey it's really on you what you trying to do."

All though Stick was usually a joker and a grade A shermhead what he said was profound. He got himself a new set of clothes and showered at the motel but as the shower water was running before he got in, JD vomited. Breakfast lunch and dinner all cam up and what came up must come down. It was the price to pay.

El Corona

She saw Tricky standing there on the corner looking pissed off . "Que pasa?" She asked. She was wearing a white tank top and brown khakis. "The juras just raided one of our houses and hauled off ten of the homies to the pinta. Took our stockpile with them. We only got half the cuetes we did have. Somebody around here is fuckin snitching. I don't know who...

He then looked at her and said, "Lucky for you and me I know it's not you. You're too new. I'm pretty sure of of the putas around here supposed to be down for the hood couldn't keep their mouths shut. Some of these skonkas even fuck vatos from other neighborhoods..." He took a puff on the frajo he was smoking. "I could be wrong though. It could just as easily be one of the fuckin pee wees. Maybe they ran their mouth except even they don't know where all the fuscas are. Chances are either way it was probably a soldado or soldada that's been down for while. Till I find out who we need a new connect only I aint going to the cartel for that shit. There's a better way. I want you to go to Muralla. There's this old school OG from back in the day was one of the originals in his cliqua. Adolfo Garcia but the homies call him El Sapo."

"El Sapo? I used to hear horror stories about him. Some Aztecas tried to jump him and he cut them down with a machete in broad daylight. Fought somebody from Davis Neigborhood and put him in a wheelchair. Some Baller tried to shoot him on Mission Row and he just ran him over. I haven't heard anything lately though. But he's Marabunta. We got pedo with them.I can't be going around there!"

"Hey, not many people know your face. I just need you t speak on my behalf. Anybody that knows you just knows you from if you went to the same school but nobody knows you from doing any dirt. We need it. If our enemigos got more firepower than we do a lot of carnales and a lot of carnalas are going down. Besides Sapo don't bang anymore he's just an independent gun dealer. Where he gets his hardware, I don't know and I don't ask."

"You talk to Big Raymond about that?" She asked. "Yeah but right now I'm talking to you. The big homie's got enough problems to worry about. Got FIB up his ass he's pretty sure of it. Plus Crash all over our shit. We need a plug that's outside our neighborhood but with somebody we can trust that'll keep our shit out of the neigborhood."

"Why send me thouh I just got jumped in."

"Call it a test. But right now you're just a messenger. A messenger people won't suspect. Entendes? Now he stays over on 15th. Here's the address..."

She took it and got into a dark red Hermes. She took her pistol with her just in case. She began to drive out there. She put the radio to Radio Los Santos and the song Life On The Streets by Brownside played as she drove. Within fifteen minutes she arrived. It was a warehouse with a lot of graffiti all over the door. She knocked. "Hello? Senor Garcia? El Sapo? Tricky sent me..."

She saw some cholos from across the street. This wasn't a good place to be in in general. Muralla was not far from Unity Station but she knew this to be turf occupied by Marabunta Grande and Aztecas. Right now she saw some of the former staring at her from across the street. Tattooed shaved headed thugs and she saw some of their women who lookd just as mean. They looked like they wanted to cross the street to fuck with her when suddenl the shutter door opened and she was staring down the business end of a Mossberg. A dark skinned and short man of Salvadoran descent with slicked back pompadour hair wearing suspenders on black overalls and a white shirt under it had it drawn on her. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Soy Eldora de Corona. Tricky sent me...he wanted me to ask if you'll meet with him. He said he needed some firepower and he sid you're the man to see."

"Tricky? I don't know any Tricky. Get the fuck outta here..."

"Then how did he know where you were?"

He saw the Marabunta gang members staring. "Get in here, cabrona!"

He then said, as he shut the door, "Mirate...i don't know what you want but selling to somebody from Alta...around here?"

"He said you'd be able to keep it somewhere around here. Said they'd used it before."

"You know how to use a gun?" He asked. "Yeah. I just used one the other day..." He chuckled. "No...you don't. Gang bangers don't know how to shoot. Nobody in Los Santos really knew what they were doing with a gun until Marabunta came around. We hit the streets and they weren't ready for us. They still aren't. But I put that all behind me, nina. I'm done with that. You're Central Americana aren't you? You aint Salvadoran though...got a Honduran look to you."

She nodded. "Orale...look, in my homeland I fought against government tyranny. For that you had to have real skill."

"All due respect if that's true why is there vatos in the military that come back with the skills they learned?"

"That's a once in a blue moon thing. And if what I say isn't true then why did the Mexican and black kids fuck with us but then learn that was a bad move when we were better at urban warfare than them? Where were their veterans of foreign wars then?No, this was the 80's and 90's. A lot of the vatos that were banging who served in Nam are either dead or they dropped out. There weren't too many major wars in Estados Unidos these days. Not like Nam. And not like El Salvador. So they weren't ready for us. Yeah, they knew how to shoot but we knew ow to shoot better. Lets see how you shoot..." He gave her a 9mm inside a pistol and had her strap it on.

"Dibuja cuando estés listo," The Salvadoran told her. (Draw when you're ready)

She did and he noticed the way she drew. "

Ves que estás sacudiendo el que quieres hacer es cuando vengas vas directo desde aquí," He demonstrated the right way to draw drawing up from the holster and then straight forward.

(See you're bobbling the you want to do is when you come up you go from here straight out. )

He had her copy him. "Uno..dos..tres..." He lifted up from the holster and then extended again straight out. "No se trata de velocidad. Se trata de control."

(It's not about speed. It's about control.)

He instructed, "Arriba, directamente hacia afuera y luego manejas el objetivo delantero."

(Up, straight out and then you ride the front target.)

iHe had her try drawing again and told her, "Slow down..." She did so in a more relaxed manner. "There we go."

He then demonstrated an example of if they were moving in on enemies together side by side holding their pistols like officers of the law. "Cuando me muevo, te mueves. Cuando pare, te paras," (When I move, you move. When I stop, you stop.)

She moved when he moved, stopped when he stopped as they fired at their targets but then he stopped abruptly and he put a hand on her shoulder stopping her as she went a bit ahead of him. "¿Ver ahora? Estás en la línea de fuego."

(See now? You're in the line of fire)

He chuckled. "I like you, chica. Maybe we can do business after all. And maybe I'll agree to a meeting with Tricky and Big Raymond but you have to be there too."

She shrugged. "Why not?" He grinned and then said, "Now, let's see how you do with the targets..." She looked at him and said, "Wait!' She asked him, "Why did you stop? Being Marero?"

"Maybe I'll tell you that story some day. But it won't be today."

Meanwhile...

Danny walked up to Tricky. "Hey you seen my sister?" He said, "Hey she went on a little errand for me, carnalito. Hey you want a soda or something?" The teen nodded. "Sure."

He handed him a 20. "Run to the store. Get me some Sprunk and some chips and get whatever you want."

"What kinda chips?" The Chicano grinned, "Sour cream and onions. Of course."

With that, Danny went across the street. Lolita and Dreamer walked up. "You trying to put Danny onto the varrio now? Big sis aint gonna like that eh..." Lolita said. "Mind your business alright it's not like that. Just showing carnalito some love. Poor little fucker had his parents taken away que no?"

Just then, a dark gold Voodoo rolled up.A man leaned out and yelled, "Varrio Fresa, puto!" He fired a Beretta out the window. The two cholas ducked down as did several other gang members and pedestrians ran and screamed as the man let off ten gunshots out the window. Lolita and Dreamer came up with their pistols drawn, Lolita had a .45 and Dreamer had a Glock. Tricky fell over on the pavemet nursing a bullet wound in his right hip, his left arm and the right side of the chest. "Fuck..." He said as blood came from his mouth. "Shit!" Cried out Dreamer. "We gotta get him to a hospital!" They had fired off the remaining fifteen rounds and peeled off but not before Dreamer let off five at the back of the car and Lolita had fired two back hitting the side door.

Danny came back with the stuff from the store and his eyes widened upon seeing the wounded gang member on the ground dropping the man's Sprunk. It sprayed all over the place. "Dany, get outta here!" Cried Lolita. "Just go back to the canton and wait for your sister to get back!"

He ran off as he was instructed but had tears in his eyes for fear of Tricky and if he would live. _Eldora, where are you?_ He wondered.

* * *

That's all for this chapter I know it was brief but I wanted to get something updated fast it's my b dy today so i didn't have much time but in any case I promise future chapters will be longer.

So El Sapo is a character of mine from Ballad Of A Cholo he's in this too but he's a bit different in that he's a dropout. He's like a barrio version of emmett from GTA SA in that he's from a rival hood but now hes a retired OG and he'll sell to old rivals.

So seing as the Vagos are based on mainstream Surenos while Aztecas aare on 18th street and Marabunta on MS-13, well the thing is the Surenos are not just one gang it's an umbrella term like crip or blood diferent cliques, sets, neighborhoods and some beef with each other but unite in the pen. Since Alta 13 is based on Lennox 13 I based Varrio Fresa off Inglewood 13 a rival of theirs and since Frsa is Spanish for strawberry it's an easy one. Also Muralla is Spanish for Rampart which the Rampart division of the LAPD which covers Pico Union and West Lakethat area is where in LA MS-13 originated.

There wasn't much violence on Eldora's end but there will be in th future in retaliation for Tricky being shot. Will he make it? Either way they will retaliate. So in a sense what im showing is more Vago on Vago beef kinda like the Families beefed with each other. The Ballas were more of a united front but that' because they're based on Bloods and they used to not set trip all though they do now.

As for Hercules he is visually based on Ving Rhames and Stick is based on Leon Robinson who played Jefferson Keane on Oz and killa B a crip in Colors. His character is sorta based on both of them. So JD has commited his first murder and him throwing up is pretty normal but we also see how ruthless O Loc is despite being younger and pretty much a mino he is psychotic.

What do you think JD shoul do? Go full gang banger or still also stay in college and give himself the legit option should he ever bow out? Anyway hope you next time


	5. The Things I Do For Respect

_Nobody's Fool_

Sandman pulled up to his trailer in Sandy Shores. His younger brother was waiting for him. Eddie Vinke was a thirty seven year old. He just had darker hair but it was equal in length and he had similiar facial hair but was darker haired. The truth was, Morgan, Monty and Eddie were all half brothers. Same father different mothers. Like Sandman, Eddie was a member of the Vanguard. The irony of Monty was that he wasnt actually an AV member. He was instead a member of the gang Most Hated in prison. They were the enforcement wing of the Vanguard and members wanting to be part of it usually joined up with them first. So all three of mama's baby boys were fuck ups.

"Morgan! Good to see ya brother!" Stated Eddie as the two exchanged a hug. Eddie was by far the most psychotic of the three of them. Though it was not as obvious yet, they would find out in later years how fucked up he was. For now, however, Morgan had the reputation as the most sadistic."

"About time ya touched down..." He held a newspaper in his hand. "Nice handiwork there, Sandman. Fan to the face. That'll serve those Dead Beat pricks right."

"Yeah well they're wanted back on the yard so long as they get with the program it'll be fine."

Monty didn't like it. "I still say we should make more of an example out of those cocksuckers. It's bad enough they pulled that shit here. In Arizona they show us even more disrespect. The DOC is fucking up by giving biker their own prisons."

"So what do you want to do?" Sneered Morgan. "You want to go all the way to Arizona to start a war? if the brothehood out there wants to send them more of a message that's up to them but that aint our jurisdiction. This is! I see any of those cock sucks in my county I'll body bag em but that's here."

"Well word on the street is another biker club wants to try to move to town. Some fuckers called the Lost. They're from the Midwest," Stated Eddie. "I know em well..." Said Morgan "Don't ya remember? They used to run meth up the highways on route 66."

"They're trying to get themselves established out west. They got a meeting with one of the gangs in LS. They're buying some white off one of the LS gangs. They think they're gonna make a move into this county. We're going to stop them."

"You giving me orders now?" Demanded Morgan. "Just cause you been with the Vanguard longer don't mean you can tell me what to do. We both have a say over what Monty does cause he aint in yet but you and me are equal. Except for we aint equal cause I'm older."

"No, it aint about what I said. It's about what The Beast said. He could be getting out any day now. You don't want to piss him off. He gave us an order."

"This is from the top?" Asked Sandman. "You bet your ass. We gotta find out which of the gangs is doing business with them and put a stop to it."

"Hey, I'm all for wasting some biker fags but what if they're deling with South Siders? We don't want to piss them off..." Stated Monty. "This aint the joint," Replied Sandman. "And even they have to understand business is business. And as long as it aint a deal Onda signed off on it's just a local neighborhood thing we have a right to deal with it as we see fit especially if they're making deals with a biker club moving in on our turf. If they wanted us to allow it they would have let us know."

"I aint taking orders from them..." Declared Eddie. "I aint ever going back to the slammer. The fuck is my own status in the Vanguard for if we still take orders from anybody else?"

"We gotta go pick up Jamie. He's over in Harmony," Stated Monty.

"Who the fuck is Jamie?"

"He didn't do time with you he did time with us," Replied Eddie. "He started out as some big time money man working out in the suburbs till he got sent to Chinito."

Chinito was San Andreas Men's but it was known as Chinito due to the name of the city it was in. "Alright, you sure he can be trusted?"

"

"Of course," Monty said. "Oh and there's a brother from Oklahoma. Did fed time and he wants to get in touch with us."

"We'll see about him later..." They got into a dark gray Rebel and Roland would be driving. "Alright, fine. Where's this Jamie fucker?" Demanded Morgan. "He's over in Harmony."

They began to drive there and they put the radio on to Los Santos Rock Radio. The song Nobody's Fool by Cinderella played. "We need some guns if we're going to deal with whoever the Losers are meeting, Ed."

"Our boy Jamie's got us covered."

"He fuckin better..."

"Hey, I'm telling ya Morgue, he's cool. Solid brother. Whooped on toads, smuggled dope like a good boy. Send out kites to other prisons..."

"I don't give a shit!" Sandman's deep voice boomed. "Anybody can 'whoop on a toad! Their strength is in numbers. You know those faggots from the Families are starting to call themselves that proudly! That's what I heard when I was locked down."

Eddie chuckled. "Either they're taking is as their own the way we did with them calling us Woods or it's cause of the color green."

"It's probably the latter," Stated Sandman. "There aint a difference between the Families and Ballas. There may be to each other but there isn't to us."

"i don't know about that..." Stated Monty. "They're dying on the streets because of it. Hell it's good to know your enemies, big bro. You wouldn't confuse the NVA with the ARVN."

"Except the ARVN are allies with Americans, stupid that and they don't exist. Commies got rid of em. Out here though the Families and Ballas hate both of us. In or out. And even if they still kill each other, the one thing they can agree on is killing us."

"We don't gotta worry about them," Stated Eddie. "It's whoever the Losers are even working with. For all we know it could even be the Huns. If that's what's going on, we're gonna have to spank em both."

"Well that goes without saying. We're spanking the Lost no matter what they do..." Stated Morgan They pulled up to a house where they were meant to go. "Honk the horn..." Monty said. He did and a man with neck length blonde hair and a handle bar mustache, tall about six feet looking to be a Nordic American with tattoos wearing a white and black plaid shirt came out He looked about twenty five or so.. Monty greeted him with a handshake and a hug. "How's it going, peckerwood? How's the outside life treating ya dude?"

"One day at a time. This the guy?" He asked. Monty said, "This is my big brother Morgan and you know Eddie already. Morgan, this is Jamie. Me and him were tight inside."

"Good. We're going to need this to be tight knit. Cards close to our chests."

They piled into a dark orange Bobcat and Sandman began to drive. "I can't stand these goddamn biker, bro," Stated Monty. "Bunch of pussies. Stupid. i mean we're good for some tattoos but clothes can cover that 're as dumb as the idiots in South Central for wearing patches. Actually even dumber. Truth is...people wore purple and green bandannas before those fags started wearing it. Well...maybe not purple but you get my drift. They're not walking around with shirts on the back that say Baller or Families."

"It's worse," Stated Sandman. "We know if we see somebody in green or purple what they're probably standing for but in the 80's everybody wore bandannas. 60's too. It's a rock and roll thing not a gang thing and if we were to go to the south they wouldn't know about this Davis and Strawberry bullshit."

"Alright..." They put the radio on to Los Santos Rock Radio and the song Let Me Put My Love Into You by ACDC blasted. Before long, a Weazel News report came on. "Goddamn it!" Bellowed Sandman. "Put my fucking music back on you son of a whore!" He growled pounding the dashboard in anger. "Morgan, shut up you crazy cocksucker!" Eddie screamed. "I want to hear what went on in Fag City! It was between Rifas and Vagos!"

 _"Police are on the hunt for the suspects in a gang related shooting in Garcia, a gang infested area in Central San Fierro, a primarily Latin American neighborhood, has seen a number of murders with increased presence of Southern San Andrean gang rivals such as Varrio Los Aztecas and Los Santos Vagos as well as the newer central American street gang, Marabunta Grande, a Salvadoran street gang over a decade old, arrived in San Fierro and engaged in gang warfare with their arch rivals, the San Fierro Rifas a Northern San Andrean Chicano street gang born out of the prison system. Three days ago, Fernando Benavidez a young gang member aged 24, from the 16th street gang, a rival of the Rifa neighborhood of 24th street, was killed. An argument ensued between Benavidez and several members of the Rifas and as he got into his car, he was shot in the side of the head. Benavidez was on life support after emergency surgery and his sister, his sole surviving family member has annouced she will take him off life support as the chances of recovery were slim to none."_

 _"_ You happy now, Eddie?" Asked Sandman. The Weazel News reporters were asking people's opinions. Somehow, Richard Bastion was among one of the people being interviewed. " _It's crystal clea this is not a gang problem. It's a immigration problem! The Rifas are US citizens and most of them don't even speak Spanish! I'd say their parents probably came here legally while the Vagos came here illegally! Their war is not about gang colors or what part of the state they're from. It's between Mexican Americans who came here legally and illegals. The Rifas should be given medals for this! Cesar Chavez would be proud!"_

"Fucking lame Northerners..." Growled Eddie. "If Onda can't do their job and run those farmers out of our prisons and off the main yards, then the Vanguard needs to step up and do that. The BGA is a joke compared to what it was in the 70's. We should be more concerned with taking the Rifas out. Get Nuestro Syndicato off our yard. Even outta the SHU. I say we make all those fuckers PC up."

"Yeah well maybe the Southern Ese's are holding back after all..." Stated Monty. "Hell man, I knew this shit was just like a Tokyo and Berlin alliance. It was only meant to be temporary. Notice South Siders still cut our throats. You don't see the North siders treating the toads that way. It's gonna have to be us. We're more powerful than they are. You think Onda's the most powerful force in the pen? No. It's us. We're the one common denominator in all the state and federal pens."

"Don't get too big for your britches just yet, Monty. You aint part of this yet. One thing at a time," Sandman stated. "At least we don't have to deal with Northern trash down here. Be grateful for that."

"So what's the deal with these bikers?" Asked Eddie with a demanding tone and a scowl looking at Jamie. "Beats the hell outta me, man! The Lost are always trying to get a foot hold in Blaine County. If we let them, good luck getting them the hell out. There used to be a time when the Lost would have been considered more useful. 70's and 80's maybe they would have been of some use to us but nowadays they're just pieces of shit. I don't even care for the Angels but I'll take a Dead Beat over a Loser any day. I was in Liberty City once. Met one of their guys who just got patched in a few years ago. He was doing time for a murder out here. Killed some Angel seven years ago and got out last year. You believe that shit?"

"Must have been second degree murder to be out that soon," Sandman. "That it was. Anyway, this guy I hear from some of the Angels that were loyal to us, he's vice president now."

They pulled up to where they were meant to go as per Jamie's directions. They pulled over at the Yellow Jacket Inn. The Lost MC were meeting up with several African Americans. The main guy was an dark skinned African American wearing a black denim jacket wearing a violet bandanna and baggy purple jeans. "I don't fucking believe it. These sons of bitches are buying off the Ballas."

"What set are they?" Asked Jamie. "You think it matters?" Asked Eddie as they got their weapons ready. "Trust me, it matters," Jamie said. "Know your enemy."

"You got the paper?" Asked the Baller. "I'd be an idiot if I showd up without it," Stated the biker, a blonde male with greasy long hair and a gray bandanna over his blonde hair. He showed the suitcase full of money. "So let's have a taste..." The Baller nodded and said, "Hey that's fine by me but I gotta count that up. I don't want to be out here any longer than I have to. Can't stand the country, dog. It's hot, full of wildlife, and there aint no AC!"

They cut open one of the bricks. "Man, this shit straight from Peru, man. It's the real deal! Straight Peruvian flake."

"Peruvian flake, huh?" The Lost MC treasurer said as he tried it. "Well shit...Peruvian flake makes for a lot of American cake."

Morgan got his hands on a Remington 870, Monty had an Uzi, Eddie had an AR-15, Jamie had an MP5. Morgan crept along the ground until he was within spitting distance of the deal. He came up and fired striking the Lost gangster in the back. Monty came up spraying yelling, "Motherfuckers!" He let off twelve rounds off the bat nailing the Baller in the nose chipping it off piece by piece. "You want to sell in Blaine County we get a slice!" He screamed.

Eddie hit another Baller, this one an overweight African American in a Panics jersey with cornrows and glasses and blue jeans. He hit the man with ten rounds in the stomach and three in the chest. He then took some of the cocaine off the dropped blade and sorted it.

To his surprise, the man was still alive. He coughed blood up as he asked, "Man...fuck...is this shit about...?"

"Who told you guys to make a deal with the Lost? Was it the BGA? What hood you from? You look like you might be from South Side, Strawberry hood."

"Nah man...don't care about them fools on the West Side...I'm from East...aaack...!" He coughed up more blood. "East side, dog..." Monty chuckled. "Hey it's your story, I'll let you tell it, man. East Side, West Side...obese African American Homosexual or fat nigger cocksucker...who am I to call you anything but what you want?" Monty took another bump of what remained of the blow. "That's our shit..."

"Didn't Nancy Regan ever tell ya? Drugs kill. Especially in your case. Crack is whack..." He pulled out his M1911 pistol and pistol whipped the dying man. "See that?! CRACK!" He hit him in the nose making a cracking sound. "CRACK! WHACK!" He hit him again. He then stuck the barrel in his mouth as the man was starting to choke on his own blood most likely seconds from death. He pulled the trigger decorating his brains over the back country road and smiled wickedly saying, "See? Wasn't that whack?"

Morgan struck another Baller, this one a dark skinned black male wearing a purple plaid jacket and brown khakis and a Boars beanie. He hit the man in the back but more of the blast hit him in the back side of his left arm and took a huge chunk of his arm off and he fell to the ground crying out in pain. "AHHHHH FUCK!" He cried his feet kicking like he was posessed. He began to go in shock as the nerve damage was maximum.

Monty sprayed mowing down two Lost MC members, the first, a heavy set white male in his early forties with graying brown hair and an already graying beard and sunburned skin in the San Andrean sun wearing a black leather sleeveless vest. The next was a taller white guy with a shaved head but a beard and mustache standing at six feet with brown eyes in his mid thirties wearing a black leather jacket with the Lost patch on it but with sleeves. The first biker he hit in the side including the ribs while the second biker he hit in the chest and as the man fell four struck him in the waist near the bladder as well.

Jamie was firing with presiscion as the Ballas and Lost tried to take up defensive positions firing back with Handguns. A bald light skinned black male wearing a checkered purple and white flannel jacket ran firing a Tec-9 as he tried to get away only for Jamie to hit him in the back of both legs and two of those exited his left knee cap and he fell over the Tec 9 hitting the ground. One biker had made it to his Zombie and was firing a 9mm trying to hit Morgan but Jamie fired striking the man in the chest as he started to ride and shoot at them and the man fell off his bike goint at about twenty miles per hour and he bounced on the ground and rolled on his side, his torse scraped up badly by the ground in addition to the gunshot wounds to his chest and left shoulder.

Eddie grinned taking the motorcycle and lifting it up. Monty reloaded and one of the Ballas had dropped his Beretta in the hopes that he would get mercy. Eddie said, "So you want to get in bed with bikers, huh? Well I'll tell you what, son. We're going to put this meth head piece of shit on the back with you. And you being able bodied are just going to give this biker a lift to the hospital and save his life. Go about your business from there."

"What...? But there aint no bikes in the hood...I've seen the big time high roller niggas on dirt bikes and them Japanese types of bikes but I aint never got on one..."

"That's tough shit. You should have thought about that before making a deal with bikers. Blaine County is Vanguard territory! Your turf is South Central. His turf is across the state lines! But you're in it together now. Come on, boy! Ballas and Lost MC together. All you gotta do is rev like so to go faster...and hit this here handbrake to slow down."

"Come on, man couldn't you just give me a car?"

"Bikers don't use cars! Morgan you believe this fucking guy? You aint getting a car! I can't think of any good reason for Losers and Ball Sacks to be seen together. Unless they want to be LS drug pushers and you want to ride a hog!" He piled the wounded biker on holding onto the nervous Baller. Morgan chuckled as he got the woozy and wounded biker to hold onto the black male. "If there was ever a time for back seat driving, now would be the time!"

The Baller attempted to drive forward and the bike simply went in the path way of a semi truck. The Baller lost his head instantly as he hit the trailer and his bloodied body rolled out to the other side while the dying biker was crushed under the tire with the bike on top of him and dragged for part of the way. This of course, caused the trailer to jack knife in the middle of the road. The semi truck driver was also killed. Roland went up to the biker's corpse and smirked with admiration at his own work at having seen that the body was bloodied and that his skull had been smashed by the tire causing his brains to pop out.

He looked at the biker and said, "Numb skull," He then walked past the decapitated Baller and smirked, "Shoulda wore a helmet."

Jamie raided the wallet of the deceased gang members. Morgan picked up the money briefcase while Monty grabbed the drugs. "Not a bad haul for a day's work. Now we go clean this money in LS and find ourselves a buyer for the blow."

With that, they made their getaway. After dropping Jamie off at his trailer,Mrgan exchanged information. "I've got a place lined up for us at Vespucci Beach," Monty stated. "What's the matter, boy? You too white collar now for blue collar Sandy Shores? You gotta move out to Los Santos and be an elitist?" Morgan demanded.

"Like it or not, there's a hell of a market out there, bro. Del Perro is a tourist trap and we got a lot of brothers in the area. Business is booming."

"We need to have a sit down with the Vagos. Make sure their guys don't interfere with ours and we won't interfere with theirs," Sandman stated. Sandman then looked at the dead bodies and grinned, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"No, you fuckin freak of nature. No. Not on my watch. You pull that bullshit on your own time."

"What's Morgue, thinking?" Asked Monty. "Oh is this about that kidney harvesting thing? Cause I'm on board but they only last a small amount of time."

"You're an even bigger dumb ass. Shut the fuck up. Shit!" Eddie realized. "We need to go see Uncle Earl before we head out to Vespucci Beach. I know he would be pissed if we didn't stop in."

Uncle Earl Waingro was AV royalty. As a matter of fact, he was one of the founding members. Uncle Earl had actually been more of a father to them than their actual father who had been a World War II vet who had fought in the Pacific. Uncle Earl, as it turned out, had two sons of his own. With a Jewish American woman. All though Earl had been a founding member of the AV, and it was a blood in blood out oath, he had retired from crime and mostly gone legit. Some suspected the man's legit businesses to still be a front for criminal activity and to launder money but Earl was no loner getting mixed up in gang fights. He had been legit since the 70's.

They pulled up to Uncle Earl's place. "It's been a while since we've been back here...think he's here?"

"Of course he is, you idiot..." Eddie said. "You see his truck. Think he still has those 70's and 80's pornos? I'd rather fuck the shit out of a whore in West Vinewood but if we can't pony up the dough, I'll settle for a good old fashioned fuck film..." The dark haired AV member said with an evil grin."

Morgan stated, "Almost every time I look at porn I am of course rent anal videos... And when I'm watching getting my chub up and getting ready to have a good whack and the guy goes and puts it in her twat for a little bit. And I say to myself, dude, stop that. Wrong hole. So I end up watching 7 different videos just to jizz. And why the fucking hell do these guys have to shave their balls? I want the dudes dick and ball sack to look like mine so I can pretend it's me!"

"Just shave your balls," Replied Monty. "NEVER..." Vowed Morgan

Uncle Earl was a Caucasian with brown eyes and he had dark brown long hair and a beard and mustache. His name was Earl "Cowboy" Vinke and he was in his early 50's. He was fifty two. It was ironic that he raised each of them, even Morgan more so than his own father despite being only thirteen years older. He wore a black buttoned up dress shirt with two buttons undone revealing his chest hair and a pair of black jeans and he wore brown cowboy boots. He also wore a ten galln hat.

He opened the door and looked at the three who had pulled up then went inside without saying a word. He spit tobacco juice into the rose bushes and then shut the screen door behind him but he left the door open.

 _Losing Control_

Hayako did the ritual washing of his hands and mouth at the ablution basin. He then proceeded to pray to his ancestors for guidance. They had been laying low in the temple. All though all of the Yakuza members ate meeat, Akira had instructed them not to and no meat offerings were to be made as the shedding of blood was forbiddden in a sacred place.

This was the most peace he felt anywhere in America. He knew he shouldn't have anger in such a sacred place but it was beyond his control. First the police had tried to catch all of them and had wounded his Oyabun. And before that, he just had seen all these American World War II veterans. He wanted to kill them then and there. But he had reframed on behalf of not drawing attention to himself. The thing was, the Yakuza was largely not in favor of harming innocents but in his mind World War II veteras were not innocent. They had invaded Japanese soil and killed Japanese soldiers.

His grandfather had fought the Americans, the British and the Australians and had almost died three times over there and he still survived. As he understood it, Akira Tanaka's father had also served and i fact his father and Hayako's grandfather had survived together mostly except that Tanaka's father had vanished for years after the war. In any case, Hayako's father had told him what it was like to go to Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the aftermath of it all. He had gotten sick from radiation but had been lucky enough not to die.

Hayako had not wanted to come here. In Japan, they had status. In Kobe, they were folk heroes. In America, they were just considered criminals. Finally, as he saw Tanaka give a bow to the priest and he left, he knew it was time to go outside finally. It had been a couple of weeks.

Yoshida was already outside lighting a cigarette. "Hayakawa otōto Kyō wa dōdesu ka?"

(Hayako, little brother. How are you this day?)

"Ikatteiru...Keisatsu wa hitsuyō arimasen Karera no tame ni basse rareru Watashitachi no chichioya o korosou to suru!" Stated Hayako in a venomous tone.

(I am angry...the police must be punished for their attempt to murder our father!"

Akira chuckled. "Anata wa wakakute yūkan'na musukodesu. Watashi wa anata no nenrei de onajidatta."

(You are young and brash. I was the same way at your age.)

"And now, father?" Asked Hayako in English. "Now, i know there are times when not to attack. We must bide our must understand this."

He was given a cigarette by Yoshida who also lit it for him. "What news do you have for me about Little Seoul?"

"The Khangpae...they think they are going to disrespect us. It's the same old story. They believe they are the ones in charge of the whole area. They managed to stay on good terms with the Triads here in town but with us, they have nothing but contempt."

"And yet it's not all of them. Some of their organization are more reasonable than others..." Stated Akira. "Some are willing to work with us. It's factions of these Korean gangs that have a problem with us."

"How did this start, Father?" Asked Hayako. Akira sighed. "The truth is...it was during World War II. A lot of Yakuza forced Koreans into sexual slavery. It got worse when we expanded into Manchuria. It's ironic that Koreans would run from their own home because of us being there in their land, us and the military and they would come to mainland Japan and form gangs to fight us there. And since this was our homeland and not somewhere neuteral like the west, I have to say I admire their courage. But this doesn't mean I will stand for it."

He then looked at Hayako. "There was a man back then who fight Koreans who were part of us. We allowed them into the clans. We always have. But they associated us with being the same as the invading army itself. This man...he was the son of an anti imperialist guerilla fighter. He ended up joining a political party in Korea himself. He united most of the Korean street gangs uner the Kkangpae banner."

"And this man who runs the Kkangpae out of Little Seoul is following in the same spirit of resistance. I have had our men look into him. His name is Joo Sung. He is said to have made millions during his time in the United States. He also ran a lot of operations in South Korea but the police there are after him. He can never go back there. He is a fifty year old man. An old fool. If he wants war with us, he has it."

"There's no need for that yet..." Tanaka stated. "If it comes to that, we will certinly fight them but I want to see if they can be reasoned with."

They got into the '93 four door Washington. They had the radio on K Dust and the song Rock Of Ages by Deaf Leppard played. Akira lit a cigarette. "I wish they would have cooperated with us. We could have made a lot more money than we do now. It's always better to have peace even in businesses that are illegal than to fight."

"If that's true, why was the US economy better off after World War II?"

"War is only profitable to those who win. But you have to remember, my son, that even those 400,000 American that perished fighting us and the Germans, those men that died many of them were famers. They left families behind that had to struggle with their bread winners dead. So war is only profitable from a certain point of view. But this is the nature of mankind."

Yoshida chimed in, "Some might say that after the war, our country thrived. Look at how many businesses surged in the post war years. The Japanese automobile industry did very well in the 80's."

They stopped off in their was only a sixteen minute drive west. They'd just gone a bit north west of downtown and north of the Maze Bank Arena. They spotted a Korean gangster of about six feet with a medium brown complexion. He wore a silver baseball cap and he wore a gray windbreaker and a white t shirt under it. He had a blue pair of jeans. Next to him was a Korean man with red sunglasses much shorter and he wore a green and white striped shirt and tight blue jeans. He was lighting a Redwood up and conversing with his friend in Korean.

Hayako was handed his weapons, two Minebea PM-9's. Yoshida had a Howa Type 89. Akira had a Type 64. The two Koreans saw trouble and went for their firearms, both carrying USP's but Hayako did not give them a chance to use them. He fired a burst of both Machine Pistols letting off eight from each and he struck the first man, the tall one six times in the stomach. The shorter Kkangpae gang member took two in his left thigh, three in his waist, two in the stomach and one in the bladder which exploded as the round struck it.

They were in front of the Fa Qu Korean barbecue joint. Three more Korean mobsters came out armed with heavier artillery. The first wore white khakis and a gray suit jacket over it and he had a short pompadour haircut of the modern sort and he had an MP7 which he fired trying to hit the Oyabun. "Japanese bastards! This is not World War II! You will not rule over us again!" Screamed the man as Akira took cover behind the Washington. Yoshida hit him with ten rounds in the stomach and he yelled, "You Korean dogs forget your place!"

As Hayako hit the second man to come out, man wearing an all black suit carrying a 20 gauge, he fired and hit him with four rounds from each pistol one on each side of the man's chest and he yelled, "Dō yatte watashitachi o kōgeki seru Otōsan!"

(How dare you attack our father!)

"Fuck you, Yakuza shit for brains!" Screamed the third Korean mobster who had two 9mm's which he fired at Hayako. Hayako took cover in the parking lot behind a parked black Voodoo. One round did hit him in the right arm. "Kuso! Baka no orokana musuko!" Roared Hayako as he winced in pain.

(Fuck! You stupid sons of bitches!)

He fired with his other arm letting off the remaining rounds which hit the Korean in both knees and he fell his rounds discharging wildly. Akira hit the man with a headshot from the Type 64. The rounds hit the man one in the right side of the nose tearing his nostril the next hit him in the cheekbone just right of it, and the last hit him in the left eye.

More gunfire came at the three Japanese gangsters from all over and they saw at least six Korean mobsters advancing on them from down the parking lot and another three emerged from the inside of the building the first brandishing an AK the second, an M4 and the next carried the same as Yoshida. "Los Santos is our city!" Screamed a Korean American as he fired an MP5 and he shot out the tires on the Washington. "We heard about your little raid! The LSPD don't want you here!"

"We need another car. Or we're done for..." Hayako said. "This was meant to be a punishment for them not a final stand for us!"

"Shut up and let me think!" Yelled Akira. He got out his cell phone and made a call. Hayako fired the rest of his magazine in his other machine pistol before retreating to behind the trunk. Yoshida did the best he could at covering the rest of them and he did manage to mow down three Korean gangsters before he was forced to cover behind a yellow Feltzer.

He reloaded in cover and Hayako stood up having freshly reloaded his weapons and he fired striking the man who had shot their tires out. He hit the man first in the right shoulder with three rounds, two more in the back as he fell and two in the face. Hayako felt a burning sensation as another round hit him, this one in the right side of the chest.

He had taken the bullet intended for his Oyabun. He was willing to die for Akira Tanaka. He fell over his rounds still firing as he fell over and he did manage to hit the man in the left leg as he tried to retreat and he hit him with three slugs in the back. Akira dropped two men as he reloaded and he came across the Kkangpae thug who had shot Hayako. He stood over him his weapon having been emptied and he began to bludgeon the Korean with the Rifle. He hit him three times cracking his skull open. With the fourth blow it reminded Hayako of an egg breaking.

The fifth made it look like the egg starting to come out of the shell after breaking. After the sixth and seventh blow the man was done. Yoshida tackled Akira as seven rounds almost hit him. Just then, they heard the motor of a PCJ-600 rolling up the street at high speed. A man wearing a yellow and black jacket and a matching helmet with white pants aimed an Uzi as he rolled past the parking lot of the Korean mob front. He let off thirty rounds and managed to drop all but two of the Korean gangsters in a fell swoop.

The biker then revved the engine and started to come at the last two Korean gangsters. They fired at him and bailed from his bike taking a few rounds in the chest and he threw himself to the hood of a dark blue Admiral fucking up the hood of the car and one Kkangpae mobster managed to get out of the way of the speeding bike that was now without a driver. The other almost got out of the way but the bike veered and crashed but as it slid it still had speed and hit him and sent him flying and the Korean born gangster hit the back windshield of a parked gray Oracle.

The biker took his helmet off and cracked the Korean over he head with his helmet. "You wanna take my bike for a spin, next time use protection for your head! Keeps you from getting brain damage!" He hit him again and again with it until the glass visor cracked and broke and he took a piece of glass and jammed it in the rival gangsters right eye and laughed as he screamed in agony.

In addition to his jacket he also had a katana on the back of his outfit and he saw that the remaining Korean gangster was reaching for his Mac-10 having thrown himself between a dark blue Greenwood and a neon colored Tahoma. He took the Korean man's arm off, his left arm in a slash and the SMG with it. A geyser of blood sprayed and the Korean shrieked. "Sazuke! We need a new car!" Cried out Yoshida. "Hayako is hit. I could have sworn you got hit too!"

"I got a vest on. I know this a new country where guns are more common and Japan wasn't but you all should consider investing in Kevlar. Worth the price you pay at Ammu Nation."

"Enough!" Cried Akira. "My son is bleeding. We need to get him out of here before he dies and the police get here. These bastards were right. The police do not take kindly to us. We need to get him back to the temple."

Sazuke broke into a dark gray Sentinel and within a minute had it hotwired and he helped Yoshida into the car and the four of them were soon tearing off out of there. Hayako had a look at the armless Kkangpae goon and his dropped weapon before the door slammed shut and he was in for a dizzy ride as they sped out of there. "That's...what I call...bearing arms..." He said with a woozy smile as blood dripped from his mouth mixed with drool.

"What's with the sword?" Demanded Yoshida. "You're riding around with that on your back through downtown? Those are illegal in the US. I'm pretty sure they have been since the 1800's! And you're just going to leave that bike of yours behind?!"

"That's not my bike," Replied the younger Yakuza. "I took it off some dumb son of a bitch in Chinatown. The outfit's mine though. You like?"

"You look like a goddamn bumblebee. A Yakuza stereotype we can't afford to reenforce!'

"You're going to be all right, Hayako. We will get you help..." Akira said tenderly. "Just hang on, son!"

* * *

That's it for this chapter guys. So a few changes I made I obviously changed Waingro's name. I'm still in he editing stage but I wanted to get this updated. So if ther's any continuity errors with the surname of Morgan, rest assured it will be fixed. I was having some serious...trouble with deciding what choices I wanted to make about certain aspects of this story.

Also most notabl Morgan i decided will be visually based on John Lithgow in the 90's rather than Ted Levine. But the personality is still the same. As for his brother Eddie he is visually based on Kevin Gage from Heat where i got the name Wingro from but i am scrapping that surname especially since Eddie's appearance and personality is based on his character in Heat anyway.

One thing I will say though is that while I will not confirm or deny whether Morgan is still alive by Concrete Jungle or Monty for that matter, I can tell you for sure that Eddie will be and the way he is he is even more of a sadist than Morgan and you'll see why within a few chapters of Concrete. So in a way with this being almost like a San Andreas Stories but being pre GTA V and not pre SA, in my stories universe, you might say that I'm giving Eddie the Lance Vance treatment in that he's not as bad of a person in his earlier years either and he too has a brother but later he is obviously a villain and in concrete jungle he will be an antagonist to the Families. And the Ballas.

Earl by the way, is visually based on the guy who played Swamp Thing in Con Air and was also in Breakdown. Too lazy to look his name up but he's often type cast as a southern thug or a western redneck cowboy type. So their surname is vinke too.

Jamie is obviously visually based on the actor who plays Jamie Lannister and his character in Shot Caller.

As far as what Morgan said about watching porn that's what this band GOAT and Your Mom said on facebook in a status and I had to laugh at that. The Goat i guess stands for God All Of Texas.

And since this is set in the same universe as Concrete Jungle and in case you were wondering, yes Akira Tanaka is one and the same as the Tanaka in Concrete Jungle. This was his Yakuza years and he's more fatherly and honestly more benevolent than he is by 2015 in Concrete Jungle. This story will explore part of why he changes over the years but his background with WWII has a little bit to do with some of his motivations. Still, 1996 to 2015 or even 2013 is a long time and thats a lot of shit that can happen over the years and change personality.

Japan being a country without many gangsters using guns, it's understandable that while Hayako did know that the US has a lot more guns, he hadn't gotten settled in enough yet to consider he would need a gun. As far as Yakuza rivalry goes despite what movies show i have yet to see real life instances where they fight Triads but they do war with the Kkangpae so i figured that would be a good rival for them.

Akira does see Hayako as a son as Oyabun's are supposed to and since most Yakuzas either abandon their biological family or are born orphans who are the perfect fit for the Yakuza, he pretty much is like a father figure to Hayako.

Next chapter we'll deal with the blowback from Yeska and the Rifas shooting that Vago he knew in San Fierro plus Imala will deal with the ramifications of the casino robbery. Till next time.


	6. Thin Line Between Love & Hate

Fox In a Hun House Pt 1

Imala was nervous. She had arrived a half hour early, not exactly unsure that she was safe. Good terms or not, they were still Triads. Rumor had it that over the years different Triad families had run the Four Dragons but it still had seemed to be consistent with staying under their control since at least the 80's. She was there with two men from her tribe that she had grown up with. One was Jose White eagle, a full blood of Northern Paiute ancestry and Southern Paiute ancestry. He stood five ten and he had a somewhat round but slightly oval face. His nose was wide and somewhat flat his lips on the larger side and his skin very dark. His hair was cut short in a buzz cut and he wore a greenish beige t shirt that said, Fry Bread Power and he wore black jeans with some white paint spots. The other man was Southern Paiute like her. His name was Waha'yoo Taba Clark. Most assumed Taba was his middle name but Waha'yoo Taba was his entire first name. Most just called him Waha for short.

All though Imala did often try and call him his full name, sometimes she slipped up and just called him Waha. He didnt mind. Waha was 5'9 with dark brown skin that reminded her of fry bread for some reason when it was cooked to be golden brown and looked ready to eat. The myth of Vinewood showing all Native men to be tall was certainly not something that could be aid of the of the Paiute or most SW tribes for that matter. 5'9 was maybe average for the country but it was tall for the Paiute. Where as tribesmen of the Northern Plains, the Southeast, and North East were tall even next to Nordic people and towered over the average European, Paiutes were generally shorter than the average Anglo.

He was a muscular man but he had not always been. He had once been fifty pounds overweight and still had the stretchmarks to show it which he was shy about but Imala had told him not to be when he was in the kind of shape he was.

He had deep black eyes and his hair was long down to the center of his back which he had braided into two braids so as to not give him a headache. He wore a turquoise flannel jacket checkered with black in color and he wore blue jeans and cowboy boots. Around his neck he had a red and brown tribal choker and he had turquoise earrings in both ears. "We got our pistols on us, sister..." Jose murmured. "And a Shotgun and a Rifle in the car if anything goes wrong. We'll be watching out for you."

"Look, I appreciate it you guys. I'm probably just being paranoid but with what happened I can't be too careful, enit?"

"I'm surprised you even want to work there anymore!" Jose stated. "You could work at the casino at either rez. You're a freaking worker bee, girl and a lot of it has been in jobs like that. Plus you got retail experience and you worked at..."

"Don't mention the fuckin V Rock Cafe!" She growled. "The manager there was an asshole. Gave me shit just for taking a sick day. I missed two days in the entire eighteen months I worked for him and he wanted to be a pain in my ass. Fuck him."

'

"Yeah but...going back to that casino? Venturas is already dangerous enough as it is. Almost nobody is from there. i mean..." Waha smirked and said, "Except us. But that's still a lot of felons. A lot of tourists that think the city is a playground. It's funny to me how politicians worry about the Indian Gaming Comitees and think there's something afoul going on there when these are the real places that has organized crime."

"Yeah, tell me about it..." Imala stated. "Now that the Sindaccos, Forellis and Leones are out, the Carcer City Outfit wanted to reestablish their old turf in Venturas and they run Caligula's now. I'm surprised any of those geriatric fuckers are still breathing let alone in the rackateering game."

"Yeah well you know it's not just them..." Jose said. "Seriously, Imala..getting involved with the Tongs is not a good idea. Do you have any idea what kinda shit those people get up to? How they make their money?"

"Yeah I am. But out of all the casinos on the strip, one man was kind enough to hire me. And I fuckin miss him. But right now, his cousin is who I have to work with until he...figures himself out or something I don't know...he took a chance on an angry girl from South Eastern San Andreas. That's saying a lot. And Jian has done all right by me these last couple years too."

A black Admiral showed up and four men got out. One of them was Jian. "Hey, Imala. You're a half hour early."

"It's an old Indian trick. Show up to somewhere early if you're not sure about a meeting."

"You got no reason to be nervous. But it's smart that you did that. Tactical even. Still, I'd say I got more reason to be afraid of you than you do me..." She asked, "Why?"

"Because you've got two men watching us with guns."

Her heart began to beat fast. "Relax..." He said almost as if he heard it. "But it does make me wonder who was sneakier historically..." He said with a grin. "I hope neither of us ever have to find out..."

 _Probably Asians..._ she thought to herself thinking of Ninjas. _But those were Japanese and you're Chinese._

She asked," "So what's this meeting about? Can you help me get my necklace back? Did you find out who hit us?"

"It hasn't been high on our priority list..." He said much to her annoyance. "No offense to your late grandmother, mind you. I'm just saying that compared to what those assholes stole from us, it doesn't compare."

"Well some things are worth more than money...at least to me. It might not have value to you. It wouldn't even maybe keep its current value if I was fucked up enough to sell it. But it has value to me,. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, I do. Even though the concerns of the casino are greater, you are part of our staff and your personal concerns matter too. Maybe there's a way we can both get what we want?"

"What do you suggest?" The young Paiute woman asked. "I don't know exactly who hit the Four Dragons just yet. But I haven't slept. I've spent all day today and last night trying to find anything I could. I'm not even saying this is the only people who I suspect hit us...but I believe at least one of them was a member of the Huns MC."

"Bikers? You serious? You think they would have the means to do a job like this? No way."

Another Triad agreed. "I agree with her, Jian. It's a tall order for even the mafia to try something as heinous as yesterday. These redneck bikers might have the clumsiness to do what they did yesterday but I doubt they could ever have the brains to pull it off."

"Why do you think it was a Hun?" Asked Imala. "My contacts in the Las Venturas Police Department called me and told me there was a John Doe found in Redsands had gunshot wounds matching what you gave him. The Bone County Sheriff's Department didn't find out who he was but he was identified at noon today. His name was Alan Silversmith. Thirty five years old. He's a full patched member of the Las Venturas chapter of the Huns Motorcycle was their Treasurer. Naturally, they'd be pissed one of their own got snuffed by a civilian. But they're probably going to be holding off on avenging him just yet. If this is a club sanctioned job they don't want anything tied back to them If this is a mixed crew though, we've got other problems."

"Geez.. Well they were all white guys, enit?"

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down. That's half of Venturas. You'd never think there'd be so many gweilo in the South West given how hot it is."

"It narrows it down as far as what gangs there are, right?"

The Triad who had spoken up, was addressed as Cao Cao. He was a spiky haired Triad with narrow beaded eyes and a small nose, medium lips and a 5'7 build. "There's a bar. Mostly for Huns and Hun groupies. In fact, only for them. It's a dive bar in North Venturas. But on the West Side of town, there is a Huns MC groupie. Her name is Sheila Cassidy. Thirty seven year old bar fly. Never aspired to do much in her life so she ended up being a whore for a motorcycle club. She has a vest that says Property Of The Huns MC."

"And you want me to do what?" Asked Imala. "Steal it.." Replied Jean. "It won't be easy. You'll have to fight that bar fly and take her vest from her. Then you're going to seduce a member of the Huns MC named Clyde Holvestot. His friends just call him 'Hole' and he's known he's drunk."

She left the area and drove off with the two men of her tribe. They gave her a ride to the bar where the biker groupie would be. Imala filled them in on what would be done. Waha was skeptical. "There's three of them..." He observed. "Not just one. I don't doubt you can fight. But three on one is not fair. I wouldn't take those odds myself!"

He told Jose, "Call up Raven. We're getting her some backup."

"Oh what so you're worried about my safety against a few bar skanks but you're not afraid to get another sister involved?"

"I don't want to get even one of you involved!" Protested Waha. "But two is better than one. You can watch each other's backs. Even Snipers have a two man team. Or a woman..."

"I never met a female Sniper..." Admitted Imala. "Maybe one day."

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess she is tough. Still, I don't know if Jian would want extra people helping me."

"Yea well it's not exactly safe for you to go tangling with a biker gang on your own is it? But these Chinese gangsters aint too afraid to let you do their dirty work. Not wanting to have their own soldiers harmed I bet..."

After Jose got off the phone, and announced that her friend was on the way here, she asked if she could use his cell phone. "What for?"

"I'm gonna see if one of my co workers will come with me and back me up too. Like Waha'yoo Taba said, two is better than one but three is better than two. And there's three bar fly skanks."

"And what makes you think you can trust this co worker?"

"For starters, she was there..." She replied as she dialed the number. After five rings, Lana picked up. " _Hello?"_

"Lana! I need your help. listen, can you meet me in West Venturas?" She rattled off the name of the apartment complex and the address. "Why do you want me to meet you there?"

"You said you always wanted to ride a motorcycle, right? You might just get a chance."

Before long, the two arrived. Raven was wearing a fancy white sweater. Raven was Wa'ha's sister and she had medium brown skin jet black hair and thoughtful somewhat slanted brown eyes. Her lips were full, a sign of her ancestry being that of Uto Aztecan rather than Athabaskan tribes like the Apache and Navajo who had much thinner lips. She wore black jeans with holes in the knees, grunge style. Lana was wearing her clothes from work. Raven was Imala's height. She was very beautiful as well. She tied her hair back in a ponytail. She was about an inch shorter than Imala was but she was always good in a fight. Lana was just as short.

"Wow you didn't come prepared at all..." Imala stated, eyeing her friend and co-worker. She told her everything they would need to do. "Wow, so we're just going to beat up on some women that never did anything to us? That seems fucked up."

"No, we're fucking up some bar skanks so we can take their vests off of them and go in their places, go to the Huns MC hangout and find out what we can."

"This is so fucked up. Women should be empowering each other not tearing each other down."

"Lana..." Imala started. "We both know what we went through at the casino was wrong, right? These bitches are affiliated with the Huns MC. The best a woman can hope for is to be an old lady in their club. There is no gender equality in a biker gang. Even street gangs for all the bad they're known for has female gang members. Think of going after these bar skanks as a nessecary step for taking down these bikers. Then we can stick it to the patriarchal culture that is the biker gang. And get our stuff back and our lives can go back to normal. Don't you want that? People haven't been coming to the Four Dragons as much."

"Well yeah, why would they?" Lana said sadly. "After a robbery like that? Besides isn't your tribe patriarchal? I mean no offense. My family tree is. I always assumed most cultures are."

"As a Chinese American doesn't that piss you off though?" Asked Raven. "People still went back to Caligula's after the robbery there and more lives were lost there than at Four Dragons. "They'll come back to a mafia joint in a city where it's KNOWN that they put bodies in the desert. But the Mountain Cloud has mostly kept a neat lid on things. And unlike other tongs, they don't even engage in prostitution."

"Yah, I guess but we could get ourselves killed. We're not gangsters!" Lana stated. "Why can't the Triads send some of their guys after them instead?"

"Because they would be shot or stabbed on sight in a Huns MC bar. Only males allowed in a place like that is other bikers. Even pledges get more welcome in a cess pool like that than an outsider like Jian would. But women? We can use our feminine charms to get many places..."

"Great...first we take down three bar girls that have probably been fighting their whole lives and then we have to go in a bar full of rapey bikers just to find out what some of them MIGHT know about a robbery?" Lana said. Raven agreed but for a different reason. "Yeah. Two Indians and an Asian chick in a bar full of drunk greasy rednecks that live on the highway and kill other clubs for a living and get swastikas tattooed on their arms in prison. What could possibly go wrong?"

It was ironic too, that the gang had started out as Chicanos who had been rejected from joining the Angels Of Death and had formed their own club in East Los Santos but now, the demographics of the Huns MC was largely the same as the Angels. She didn't know if Huns actually did have swastika tattoos the way Angels did but she assumed if Raven was saying so, also being a street smart rez lady, there was a chance it was true.

They made their way to the bar where the three women were. Sheila came outside clearly drunk. She was a thirty seven year old redhead with blue eyes. A pale Caucasian who often wore a straw cowboy hat when she wasn't wearing a biker helmet to protect her fair skin from the Venturas sun, she wasn't a bad looking woman. In fact, she was quite attractive. Except she let out a loud burp. She had with her, a brunette with her long hair down to her shoulders and the woman had big brown eyes and was about Imala's height. The redhead was 5'9 and had about twenty five pounds on Imala. The last was a blonde with curly hair and blue eyes but tanned skin. All three were busty women, no doubt, the kind of eye candy horny bikers liked to have around bars.

"Fuck you looking at...?" Demanded Sheila as she stared at Imala. "That's a nice jacket. Property Of The Huns MC."

"Yeah? What's it to ya, skank?" Imala chuckled. "I just thought it's unusual. You're in your mid to late thirties and you're still a fuck doll for the club? At least these other two are in their 20's so maybe they can be an old lady in the future but you? How does it feel being the clubhouse door knob? Everybody gets a turn. Gotta make me wonder what it is that keeps you from being an old lady?"

Two male bikers watched as they smoked their cigarettes.

The biker chick shoved her. "Is it because they want a whore on the side? Do you let them stick it in your ass when their old ladies won't? Don't worry, Sheila. I won't tell..." The blonde started to say, "Wait, how did she..." But Sheila was already throwing a punch. Imala took it in the jaw but she came back with a hard left hook striking the redheaded lady in the nose. She drew blood on contact and she grabbed the redhaired woman kicking her in the groin following up with a rigt hook to the stomach. The biker groupie hit the ground hard. The brunette tackled Lana grabbing her hair and brought her to the ground. She punched the Chinese American woman in the face. The Chinese woman made a feeble attempt to defend herself but as Imala was hit in face as the bleeding Sheila got up, and the blow was hard enough to knock the Paiute on her ass, she realized that Lana was no fighter. Raven had no problems, though, as she was behind.

Meanwhile, Sheila head butted Imala causing her lips to bleed and she bit her tongue as she staggered back. "FUCK!" She growled. Sheila snarled charging at her and tried to gouge her eyes out but missed and instead scratched her a couple inches below the left eye but she still drew blood. This pissed Imala off further so she punched the larger woman in the belly as hard as she could with a right shot. It worked as she winded her and got a whiff of the nasty whiskey the biker woman had been drinking. Imala followed with a kick to the right ribs and she bombarded her with three blows to the face a left to the nose, a right to the right eye and another left to her mouth. The redhead fell in the dirt and Imala kicked her in the stomach and the back and the ribs intending to keep her down. "This stops when you give me your vest!"

Lana had managed to get in a few punches but she was mostly getting her ass handed to her. Raven on the other hand, was winning as she had been in plenty of fights in her life so now she was pumbling the blonde with blows to the face and kicking her as she fell down. Sheila tried to fight Imala more but Imala wrapped her legs around her and she put her in a choke hold while keeping her legs around her arms so she couldn't resist. "Give me...your cut..." She snarled in her ear. "Fuck you! Low rent barrio trash...!""Screamed Sheila. Imala had been mistaken for Mexican before and unlike some Natives did not find it offensive for she knew the Uto Aztecan language was as far south as Mexico City and as far north as Wind River, Wyoming. But she had all the same meant it as an insult.

Imala asked, "Is your pride worth your life?! SAY I CAN TAKE iT!"

"Fine...!" She gasped. "You can...take it..."

She ordered her two friends to give up their cuts as well. There were two male members of the Huns, one a white male of about 6'5 with greasy curly blonde hair and a thick beard with mutton chops. His friend was a white male of about 5'8 with curly long black hair and he had a whispy looking beard, bright blue eyes and a natural sneer. "Hey! Party time is over ladies break it up!" He shouted. The bigger man said, "nobody told you you could take those off..." He looked at Imala, Lana and Raven. "You three better get the fuck outta here..."

Just then, a large hole in his shirt where his heart was through his vest erupted with blood. He fell over with a gunshot wound, dead before he hit the ground. The other biker went for his .45 automatic but he was hit with a gut shot and he fell over, blood pouring from his mouth. "Christ...!" Imala didn't know for sure but she had an idea what was going on. She saw Sheila eye the man's pistol but she beat her to it. She trained it on the three bikers who gave up their cuts.

"Move..." Ordered Imala. She punched Sheila as hard as she could knocking her out. She, Lana and Raven then proceeded to beat on the brunette who had given Lana a pretty brutal beating. Before long, the brunette biker was spitting blood as Lana kicked her in the face. She groaned in pain and was forced to the trunk of the red Oracle Imala had been given by the Triads to use. She forced Sheila in too. "You're making a big mistake..." Sheila vowed. "Shut up," Imala warned. "If either of you makes a fucking peep, you'll get what those two got..." Imala then said, "On second thought..." She pistol whipped her knocking her out. The blonde rode up front. The logic was, for Imala, she had taken the hardest beating as she had a broken nose, a busted lip a cut on her left cheek and what would be a black right eye even if it wasn't for the nose.

As she drove, the song The Big Empty by Stone Temple Pilots played on Radio X.

"What the fuck do you three psychos want...?" Asked the blonde as Imala drove towards the hills where the shots came from. "Shut up!" Raven yelled slamming the blonde's head against the dashboard from the back seat keeping the .45 that Imala took trained on her. They got to the hills and sure enough, Imala saw that though they both had ski masks on, Jose and Waha were there. "I thought that was you guys."

"Yeah well we knew there was bound to be some extra people there and things could have gone wrong."

Imala stated, "Listen...the three of us still got a job to do. Can you go down there and get rid of those bodies before anybody else sees? I'm shocked nobody has yet anyway."

"Sure..." Stated Waha'yoo Taba. "But what are you gonna do with those three? We saw it all through the scope."

"We're gonna take em to Jian. He's gonna 'talk' to them and see what they know. Make sure they understand that if we decide to let them live or if they do, it's a mercy thing but we can easily turn it around and fuck them up the way you two just dropped those two."

"Yeah..." Jose said. "I hit the big guy..." With a bit of pride in his voice. "He still dropped like a rock..."

"No art in that, cousin. Hitting a smaller target is more impressive."

The two rez dogs went down to go get the bodies and sure enough, nobody had come outside. They had suppressors so nobody heard the .308's crack in the night air. They dragged the two dead men and put their bodies in the truck. "Ya know..." Stated Jose. "These two are Nomads. Maybe...just maybe...we can go with you just in case to this thing."

"I think that's a good idea..." Said Raven. "Ditto..." Stated Lana. Waha'yoo Taba looked at Imala. "So what's it gonna be? You want us to come with as backup just in case? It's your call either way. You want us to back off and just let you three handle it we will."

Garcia, San Fierro

Guilt By Association

Javier lit up a Redwood. He was not happy with the fact that his old party friend had been killed by friends in his neighborhood. He lit a white candle for him. He made a face of disgust as he smelled that somebody had pissed on his vigil. It was true that Javier had fought Vagos in High School, individuals in fist fights but he had also fought Rifas from other neighborhoods too. It wasn't a gang war thing to him. "Fuck, Fernando, lo siento carnal..."

Just then, he spotted La Cicatriz. "Que onda, ene?"

"What's up man? Look did any of you do that? Piss on it? That shit wasn't cool man. I know you vatos got pedo with each other but don't you got any respect for the dead?" His best friend said, "Man, who gives a fuck about some sewer rats? You been away from the hood too long if you give a fuck about a Va Ho. I know you were never official with your shit, homeboy but come on, dog. What happened to neighborhood pride?"

"Yeah but when we were in school, bro...little chavalitos in middle school we didn't give a fuck about any of that shit, ese. We used to be friends with guys that became Vagos. Y Aztecas."

"Yeah, and we had homeboys from El Salvador that roll with Marabunta now, homes."

"Marabunta? What the fuck is that? Big Plague?"

"It's this newer Salvadoran cliqua, homie. Started outta West Los Santos. It's kind of a shame, man. The blacks and the scrapas down south gave them fools the blues and they started their own cliqua. Crazy fucker, man. They were civil war veterans and they were better at gunplay than anybody in that city. I'd say that made them more deadly than a cop even. But three years ago, they folded under pressure from Onda, man. It's really too bad cause they could have got down with us they showed a lot of heart and we still had NS fools from LS they bitched out."

"What's that got to do with up here?"

"Chingow. You have been gone a while. If Va Ho's been out here a long time, why wouldn't the Guanacos clique come up here to start fresh? And yeah, they're in Garcia now."

"Man, let's get outta here...people are staring at us like we did something. Oh wait, like I did something when you know I didn't!" Yeska growled. "I didn't come home to fight Raza, wey..."

"It's too late for that, homes. They're encroaching on our neighborhood. They aint our people. They're a bunch of lame ratas from del sur."

"You know there was NS fools that started in LS, right?"

"Don't matter. If there was a time to have that conversation, it was '68. They tried to truce it up in '72 but it was four years after it should have started. They'd already hit too many of ours. Mirate, when I was coming up, I saw some of the first vatos that were rolling with NS. Back then it was less disciplined. Fools cared about numbers but we weren't as hard back then. Fuckers would beat or stab up scrapas but we didn't kill nobody till '72."

"Yeah and that was bullshit too. All I saw was bobosos from both sides fucking up any chance these streets had at peace. You know this shit on the streets is more recent than you think.. We got pachuco history but not as deep as LS. We fought each other out here too but when we hit the pen we'll still be North Siders. But it's not like the average vato on the street in '72 were representing Vagos or Rifa."

"You don't know what you're saying. Yeah, just like LS we had their hoods against ours but we're all Rifas inside. I remember when the early vatos from the neighborhood banded with the more rural towns. They were thinking 16th and 19th would have been Rifa hoods too. But we got a rat infestation. Perro, I'm proud of our heritage. Nortern Raza? Fuck with it...look...we were the bodyguards for Cesar Chavez you know? He didn't want to put hand on white boys. But just like MLK had deacons for defense carrying cuetes, we do the same shit."

"I'm proud to be from where I'm from too. But I don't give a fuck about Cesar Chavez. Fuck him. They founded wet lines to keep Mexican nationals out. They assaulted them but they wouldn't put the hurt on a white boy."

"So? It was more trouble."

"Fuck that..." Javier stated. "You have to fight back. The Brown Berets did that shit in the south."

"Yeah and they were influenced by the Panthers from the bay."

"Still. Self defense is self defense. I don't respect no coconut asshole that puts hands on paisas. I get if he was opposing the ones that were basically scabs during the strikes and I even understand fucking up the putos that the gavachos used to crack down on us but he was a vendido himself. He formed wet lines at the border to keep them from coming in. Thing is, we can classify it all as a Chicano thing but there was paisas working in those fields too. Braceros? That's a word for paisas that came up here so for Cesar Chavez...or the vatos now that hate on Paisas to take pride in being affiliated with UFW while admiring a man that was a hypocrite...chale fuck him."

"You can't hate on the UFW bird, fool..." Stated Scar with a growl. "Pinche blasphemer!"

They began to walk back to 24th. Just then, as they did, they spotted El Cicatriz's cousin, who was also a Rifa from East Ohlone. He was from the 51st street neighborhood. On his stomach he had 5150 tatted on him. It was because his house was right between 50th street and 51st and because 5150 was San Andrean code for suicidal crazy people. His street placa was Filo Loco.

He had light skin that was more yellow than brown, hazel eyes, a shaved head and a brown goatee and mustache. He had a muscular yet narrow frame and wore a 69ers jacket over a bright teal t shirt and he had a San Fierro Packers hat on backwards. "Oh shit, there he is! What up, perro? Heard you was back in town, Yeska."

He had been friends with Javier for years as well. They slapped hands and exchanged a quick hug. Filo was about Yeska's age and he had done some time in prison before for auto theft. and later felony evasion. "Nada, man. What you up to these days?"

He sighed. "Man...i had to start getting back in the coca game, wey. I didn't want to man, cause it's risky but my girl's about to be a mama. I int no dead beat. And we make hella scrill off this shit..." He pulled a wad of cash from his sock. "Look at this deniro, brother. When I can make 2 g's in a day why the fuck would I ever want a job?"

Scar told him, "Put the grip away, man you don't wanna draw attention to yourself, bro. No offense but that's kinda the problem with you Ohlone fuckers, man. We may be primos but I'm gonna be real with you on this. You guys are too flashy that's why you keep getting locked up."

"Who says we're flashy? Maybe yo're just jealous cause our city's more hood, bitch. Aint our fault San Fierro's low key."

Just then, as the four crossed on 24th and Garcia they noticed a pearl white Hermes tailing them. "Shit, man. V holes are scoping us out..." Stated Scar. "This aint good."

"Fuck them!" Stated Filo loudly. "Scrapas aint shit! They aint gonna follow us into our hood when we got like 2o compas on the block that'll fuck them up. V Ho's and Ass Tossers, they're afraid to push a line. Primo I may give you shit about whose hood's badder but I know they aint about to come through. Scraps got no honor like us. They don't fight fair. They damn sure don't fight when they're the ones outnumbered.

He threw up the hand sign for 51. "Fuck you wanna do, chavala?!" He bellowed. One of the Vagos, the driver stated, "Hey homie, isn't that Fernando's old boy from High School, bro?"

"Yeah, carnal you didn't know he was a chapete? He's with the Reef-tards now, homes..." Stated a Vago wearing a white wife beater and black khakis with a black fedora and a yellow bandanna under it. "What's up, motherfucker?!" Demanded Scar pulling out a Beretta from his shirt tail while Filo Loco reached for his .380.

They pulled away. "Homie, I think that motherfucker set the homeboy up..." Stated a Vago wearing a light blue button up checkered shirt with a gold bananna and a black cap on backwards a handle bar mustache filling out his beige skin hue.

Three Rifas walked up flashing gang signs as well some throwing up 24th while others threw up R's. A Rifa wearing a bright red flannel jacket with black tiles and gray khakis with a bright aqua colored bandanna tossed his mostly empty 40 at the car which exploded. "FUCKER! I ever see your ass around here again i'll cut your rata eyes out and fuck your bitch in front of you, punk! 24th Street Rifamos!"

The Rifas laughed at that. A female Rifa who was half Chinese and half Mexican with mostly Mexican features as far as her body and skin tone and her lips but unlike her curly haired father she ad her Asian mother's eyes and straight hair. He recognized her and her little sister. She was named Yasenia Garza but on the streets she was known as Lil Loca. Her sister, who looked plenty Mexican as well but looked slightly more Asian with a 60/40 scale, was known as La Chinita. They were both drop dead gorgegous. La Chinita's real name was Sarah. Her hair was curly.

"Since when did you get back, Yeska? Como esta?" Asked Lil Loca hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He also hugged La Chinita.

As they all talked, none of them noticed the Hermes pulling out of an alley having turned down it just up the block. The Vago who had been in the fedora leaned out the window with a Mac-11 and let the rounds pop. He struck a Rifa youngster of about twenty with twelve rounds, six hitting him in the right ribcage. The next six hit him in the right leg until the final round went into his right foot. The Vago who had worn the gold bandanna fired two 9mm's and four rounds hit Lil Loca in the back. This particular gangster was a lousy shot so even as he fired four more from each gun, only one more hit her and she fell over coughing blood as Yeska caught her in his arms.

The third shooter had been wearing a Venturas Pirates cap and a black and gold button up and black jeans. He fired an AK-47 out of the window. He struck three people but one was a civilian. The other, was a cholo in his early 30's whom he hit with a round in the left eyelid and another was hit with 4 rounds in the right leg. He fired the remaining mag at various Rifas but they scattered as rounds hit the cars parked on the street. The cholo ducked back inside and reloaded but the handguns were still fired and the SMG was still hitting people. Yeska saw El Cazo and El Hueso fall with gunshot wounds, though they were not fatal.

"Hang on, esa...i got you..." Yeska said trying to keep her calm. She tried to talk but coughed up blood instead on his face. La Chinita was screaming and crying. "Give her to me!" She begged. He did as she asked but he didn't know what good it would do. She was hit in the right lung from the back another round had gone through her back and ruptured her stomach. There was nothing he could do for her medically. Wino fired a 9mm at the car. "Pinche rata cabrones!" Screamed the overweight cholo. La Chinita was still crying over her deceased sister. "Get her outta the street!" Screamed Javier to his homies.

Wino hopped into a dark red Glendale. "I'm going after those rata motherfuckers! Anybody that's rolling with hop in now or you can stay behind!" Filo handed Javier a 13 round Browning. "You see now homie? We gotta always fuck up these maricones! They'll never stop trying to move on our hoods if we don't."

Eduardo decided he would be going with too. He had a 12 gauge shotgun. Wino floored it. "They fucked up, homes! They're all going down, fool!" Yeska noticed some blood on Filo's shirt. "Hey you're bleeding, dog..." Stated the ex soldier. "This aint shit homie, don't worry about it. V Hole ratas can't aim for shit."

"Yeah? Lil Loca might disagree with that if she could. This is all your fuckin faults every one of you. Especially Hueso and Caza, ma. You just had to be hard didn't you!"

"Carnal, you gotta understand something about this game cause you bee away for a long time. It doesn't matter if you're in the pinta or out here. If you're out here and you don't want to live the life the enemigos won't care,. And if you're inside the carnales would kill you for not having heart against the sewer way, the only thing to do is have corazon or die!"

"Great! Sounds like a hell of a choice! Either die from my own homeboys or die from the enemy. It reminds me of Stalingrad where if Red Army boys didn't kil Germans fast enough their own commanding officers shot them. If I wanted to stay in a war zone, I'd have stayed in Iraq!"

"Fuck that!" Eduardo said. "If you wanted to live in a peaceful place you wouldn't have come back. It's not our fault they brought a crowbar to a gunfight!"

"It doesn't matter! You can sit there and say this and that but you put my ass at risk by killing him. I didn't do what you fools did! I got a jefita and a sister to look after! If I wanted shit the other way I'd be at Eagle Bay with Rafi's dumb ass!"

"Hey wath what you say, man that's your hermano. And he's an important man now. I'll let that slide this once..." Wino said. Fuck you, homes! He was my brother before he was with NS! I can call him whatever I want, fool!"

"This can't be all the cuetes we got to go after these putos!" Yelled Eduardo. "Those motherfuckers got AK's and Mac's and all we got to ride on them is pistolas and shotty's?"

"Hey it's better than being naked, player!" Stated Filo. "Normally, I'd say we should wait some time before we hit them up but they're desperate to get home and this aint my hood so it's all good whatefver you wanna do, fellas."

They pulled up to the rival hood and they sure enough saw Vagos completely alert and ready for them. They fired upon the car and Wino ducked down as he parked it before hustling out the car door firing back. Two rounds hit the windshield and Javier fired striking the man who fired at him in the right elbow. "We can't get to those punks in the Hermes till we smash these fools!" Yelled Filo as he firedfour shots. The man Yeska hit kept firing but he grunted and cried out in pain as the round hit him. He struck him again, this time, four times in the chest up to the collar bone. The Vago had a yellow and white plaid shirt on and a light blue bandanna and baggy blue jeans. He bled out on the pavement and he fired at the next Vago a bald muscular guy with shades, a white wife beater and black khakis and hit him twice in the stomach before he needed to duck down.

"You're back in this shit now, carnal!" Cried Wino as he fired blindly from cover wounding a chola from the other sid with two shots in the left tigh but missed a Vago with five other shots. "No turning back!" Javier took hold of his pistol with both hands making his way to the other side of the dark green Voodoo he ducked behind and he yelled back, "I love how you say that shit like I ever had a choice to start with! You hot headed pendejos took away any choice had!"

"Just shut up and quit bitching, homeboy! You really value some fools you partied with in school over your own ass?!"

"When you put it like that, hell no!" Stated Yeska as he fired striking a female gang member twice in the chest once in her left breast which he had to admit was nice and big and firm and once in her heart.

"You tried the wrong varrio, motherfuckers! Barrio Veinticuatro por vida!" Screamed Eduardo. "Fucl you Dirty Whores!" Yelled a Vago back as he fired two Berettas. "And fuck that Ohlone punk you got with you! Go back to Ohlone bitch! This is a real varrio. Garcia's got history! Go back to sucking off tintos on the East Side!"

"Fuck you! I'd rather be cool with the brothas than some bald headed Aryan bitch! You're the gringos bitch!" Shouted Filo.

"The difference is, the AV knows we'll cut them if they ever tried to date our hynas. But you putos all got mayates dating your sisters! We know you slap duds with those changos everytime you decide to 'share' a woman! That's why Vagas are sexier than Rifas they don't got aids!"

"Fuck you! Vagas are a bunch of fat skonkas with thin eyebrows that dress like vatos! At least Rifa ladies are feminine!" Yelled Wino as he tried to take out what he suspected was a 16th street OG.

He almost wanted to laugh at his homies and the shit talking with the enemies. He didn't consider the blacks or the white boys his master. In a way, the CO's in the Army had been a sort of master but that was the military not the gan and he'd had Chicano white and black C.O's as well as women. He knew that the stereotypes both sides were lobbing at each other were not as simple as each side said. It was true the south siders had a point that while they had a drug alliance with the white prison gang it wasn't like they partied together on the streets. And with the Rifas and the BGA it wasn't so much that Nuestra Syndicato and the Black Guerilla Army partied together on the streets so much as individual Rifa neighbotrhoods had close proximity to black street gangs.

He'd also seen Rifas that in terms of dressing somewhat like homeboys but sexier, he'd seen that with his own neighborhood the same as with Vagos and by the same token, 24th street was a varrio with deep history in a major city in upstate San Andreas just as much as Los Santos barrios had history. Perhaps the Garcia District was less of a Northern hood or city compared to other farm towns in central and northern San Andreas that had been farm towns in the 60's that had grown in population but they certainly felt more like a Northern Raza city than Ohlone. It wasn't that he had anything against the compas from the East Side of the city across the bridge. He just knew that the city had more blacks than Rifas and the Rifa neighborhoods, at least som of them, didn't go back as further in history as some of the local independent black gangs.

With Garcia, technically, the war with south siders, with regards to NS soldados who were from their neighborhood, had been a home base for Rifas in the shoe war since the 70's.

"Bitchteen jotos!" Growled Eduardo as he fired striking down another Vago taking the man's face off with a headshot. Even as much as he didn't want to be there, he spotted the car that was responsible for shooting Lil Loca. She had practically died in his arms maybe just moments after letting her go and that didn't sit right with him. It was true he had homies from the Vagos hood but with each second, he knew the liklihood that he would ever be able to see them without trying to kill each other was less and less. Even though he had friends or at least had once had friends from the other side, the fact was, Lil Loca and her sister grew up in his neighborhood and he had seen them more.

He had dated her and they had even fucked a few times. It wasn't quite love but it was more than like. He never knew what the word was for halfway between like and love but they had felt it and while years had gone by, he thought for a moment they might rekindle it. He was more pissed at the Vagos for denying him that. Yes, the homeboys had been wrong to do what they had to Fernando. But then, the Vagos had taken it out on innocents too. And they had done it worse. The Rifas hhad been wrong both times. For killing Fernando and for pissing on his vigil. But now, the Vagos were doing wrong and the line was blurred and if nothing else, at least his comaradas were here getting revenge with him.

"This is for Lil Loca!" Screamed Javier as he fired striking three more gang members but he wasn't sure if he killed any of them and saw at least one crawling on the ground. "I need vallas!" He shouted. Filo tossed him a mag. "I got you, bro!"

A Vago wearing a gold necklace and a black wife beater and beige khakis with a tattoo of a crucified Jesus on his right arm, fired a .45 trying to hit Javier. "Chingate, Yeska!"

(Fuck you, Yeska!)

The Vago let off four rounds and he ducked barely missing being shot in the head but the right side mirror on the car was shattered and a piece of glass did nick his left eyelid. "We know where your jefita and hermana stay, bitch! Maybe after I finish with you, me and the homeboys will go bust a train on those bitches! You know I like under age pussy! And older pussy..."

Yeska fired angrily hitting him in the right arm with two shots. He was going to try and finish the gangster off but he was now under fire from the gangster with the AK and his friend with the Mac. Yeska's homies were trying to advance up the street but the Vagos had blocked off the road not only with trash cans but also a barricade with a black Voodoo and a gold Stallion. They could hear sirens. "Fuck, this shit is a wash, muchachos! Let's get outta here!" Yeska cried.

"What are you a fuckin pussy, eh? I gave you that cuete, man! Use that shit!"

"We aint fighting the fuckin juras, asshole let's go!" Javier growled. Eduardo fired one last shot wounding a female behind the black Voodoo before yelling, "He's right, we gotta get outta here, primo!"

They went running back to the car but much to his distress, the rounds from the Mac-11 and the AK-47 hit the tires. "FUCK!" Cried out Wino. He took several rounds in the back falling over. Javier pulled him to cover on the other side of the car that the Vagos were now shooting up. "Carnal, you all right?"

"I'm good, bro. Got a vest on...if you're gonna be back in the hood, you're probably gonna need one too, man. But for now let's get the fuck outta this sewer!"

Eduardo had reloaded twice but now he had only two shells left. "Hey, the three of you make a run for it. I'm gonna follow I'll buy you some time. We gotta get the fuck outta here."

"That's not a good idea, brother! They got us jammed up!" Eduardo didn't care. "I aint asking, fool! Get running! I want to pop two more of these bitches before it's time to go home!" Javier was gravely afraid his friend was going to get shot but the other two Rifas said, "We better do it. If the Vagos don't get us the cops will if we don't haul ass..." Stated Filo. They finally ran with the three firing over their shoulders running down the street and Eduardo fired a shot wounding one Vago before firing and hitting another though the second he wounded more with the glass from a nearby cherry red Washington than the shells as he had went from buckshot to shells. He took a round in the back that exited his right shoulder but he kept running carrying the heavy Shotgun despite his injury. As he looked like he might fall, Yeska wasted no time firing six shots to keep four pursuing Vagos from advancing.

They ducked to cover but only for a few seconds. They hauled ass down the street exchanging gunshots as they ran up the block. They saw two police cars coming from the south as they went up 19th street. The 16th street Vagos scattered to avoid the cops. "This way, homie! Follow me!" Barked Wino pulling on Yeska's shirt as he helped the wounded homeboy run. "I know a short cut! You too, Ohlone bitch!" He said with a smirk not missing a chance to rib the 51st street gangstter about his hood.

They made it down 20th. "This shit isn't right!" Screamed Javier. "How the fuck is it that we stay on 24th and these fools stay on 16th and 19th but the dividing line is 22nd street?! They get 19th, 20th and 21st, and we only get 23rd and 24th between our hood and theirs?!" Eduardo chuckled despite winccing in agony. "You tell me. You're the ones butt buddies with them."

"Fuck you. Don't act like you never partied with them before we got caught up in this color war!" They headed down the street and came off the street on 20th. "We're almost home! Keep going!" Yeska said. "I'm trying!" Panted Wino, the overweight gangster huffing and puffing. "We all aint in military shape!" Just then, they looked and saw a dark blue Tornado rolling up the block. Wino had a backup pistol on him. It was a .25, "The fuck is this pussy shit?!" Demanded Eduardo as he handed it to him. "It's like a .380, homes! Just smaller with smaller bullets but it's the same shape. Beggars can't be choosers!"

The Tornado rolled on them and started firing. _19th Street..._ Javier realized. He fired back as they had to duck behind a gray moonbeam before taking a side alley past an Aztec mural. They ran trying to lose the Vagos car. "Man these punks are tripping!" Screamed Filo. "Of course they are!" Wino cried sweating. "¿Cuatro nortenos en su capucha, acaban de llegar de la calle 16? ¿Por qué no tratarían de atraparnos?"

(Four northsiders in their hood, just came from 16th street? Why wouldn't they try and get us?)

They made their way up the street. The only reason the Tornado didn't come down the alley was it was too narrow but they had maybe fifteen seconds to catch their breath. They ran towards 21st and the Vago car fired after them. They all returned fire including the wounded Eduardo as they took off through the streets. Civilians ducked and ran screaming. The sound of sirens still filled the air. A shot hit Javier in the left shoulder grazing him and another hit him in the lower left arm and one more grazed his wrist. "SHIT!" He still returned fire with both hands Eduardo, Filo and Wino fired at the car as well but the two Vagos ducked down even as the passenger ducked and was blindly firing. He even took a round in the right arm from both Eduardo and from Wino as a round grazed his right and left knee and narrowly missed the driver's right leg.

Javier had panicked when firing back and had not counted his shots and he cursed himself. He was empty. To his horror, so was everybody else. They were on 22nd and still needed to get to at least 23rd to be safe. The Rifas were out of rounds while the Vagos still had ammo. The Vago shooting at them, a Vago with a black beanie, a white, yellow and blue plaid shirt and a sneer, aimed his Glock out the window firing at them. Yeska and Eduardo ducked behind a gray Admiral while Wino and Filo ducked behind a white Bobcat. The Admiral was further north and so further from home. The car rolled by slowly with the driver and the passener firing trying to blast Wino and Filo from cover. Javier had a quick idea. "Gimme the shotgun...it's our only hope..."

"I'm outta shells, Yeska!" Javier insisted, "Créeme, carnal!" He handed him the shotgun and just as the passenger was going to try and send a volley of rounds at Wino which would have killed him, he came running out and smacked the passenger in the face with the butt of the shotgun. He managed to knock him out, cracking his skull open and busting his nose and he dropped the pistol into the street which Javier tried to grab but felt his heart sink as it was crushed by the tires as it ran over it. The driver hit the brakes and fired his VP70 out the window at Yeska forcing him to retreat around the side of the car and the gangster tried shooting everywhere twisting his arm to try and hit him and drive at the same time.

Javier threw the shotgun at the man's face before he could shoot Javier. The shotgun did beam him and the driver's nose bled like his unconscious friend but he managed to catch the empty shotgun and toss it aside and he also ran to the left side of the street. "GO! This bitch can't chase all of us!" Javier yelled and his homies reluctantly did as he asked. "I'll see you on 23rd!" They ran across the street taking the right side of the street and the angry Vago took off choosing to focus on Yeska.

He reloaded as he drove up the street. "Chapete pedazo de mierda!" Screamed the Vago, a lean Chicano man with golden brown skin, slicked back hair in a hairnet, a dark blue bandanna around his neck, a white t shirt and blue khakis for pants, he sent seven rounds at Javier. A white male wearing a pink polo shirt and gray cargo pants with thinning blonde hair, blue eyes and sun burned skin and sunscreen on his nose, took two out of the seven rounds. He cried out in pain as one round hit him in the right shoulder and one in the stomach. Javier didn't have time to see if he was okay.

The cholo took his knocked out friend's gun and fired both out of the window. A round hit Javier in the ass and he cried out. He almost fell on his ass but he caught himself with both hands. He ran staying low but limped as he made his way towards 23rd. "You know what they say about hunting farmeros, right? A buster in the hand is worth three in the barn!" If Javier wasn't running for his life, he would have taken the time to laugh at the rival gangster's take on the bird in the hand worth two in the bush saying.

He threw his empty pistol hoping to beam him in the face again but the Vago moved his head and the handgun hit his unconscious friend's left shoulder and then landed on the floor between his legs. He ran as hard as he possibly could to 23rd. He felt his legs give out and he fell. His heart was going seemingly a thousand beats a minute and he was caught in the open. He crawled on the ground and he saw Eduardo, Wino and Filo had made it. They were about fifty yards ahead of him and they tried running to elp him but the car was closer. The Vago leaned out the window and was about to pull the trigger on both guns aiming at the fallen Javier.

Just then, several gunshots hit the hood of his car. Javier looked up to see two 24th street gang members firing at the car. One wore a dark red plaid btton up over a white wife beater and only the top button buttoned and he wore a fedora with a teal bandanna under it. The other vato wore a black wife beater, baggy black jeans and a cherry red bandanna tied cholo style around the forehead. They both fired at the car with three rounds hitting the Tornado's windshield, one shooting his head lights out and another shooting out his driver side mirror. The Vago returned a shot from each gun as he busted a U turn but he took off down the street speeding back to Vagos territory. The Rifas fired at the back of the car shooting up the back windshield and one round did in fact hit the Vago in the right shoulder wounding him and blood got on the windshield but as much as Javier hoped he would crash, he only swerved before getting control again and high tailed it out of there to get back to 19th street.

"Yeska..." Statted Wino with a grin. "You're one bad ass vato loco, man!"

"If that's true...why was I shot in the ass, culero?" The three helped him to his feet and thanked the two homeboys that had assisted them. "We're gonna get that slug outta you. Don't trip..." Stated Wino.

He did as he asked. The next thing he knew, he was having the slug dug out by an attractive light brown skinned Chicana with somewhat of a pointy nose but a pretty smile. "You know...this sn't how I imagined my home coming..."

"Come from one war to the next right?"

"Yeah...something like that. Except I didn't know what I was fighting for over there. And I really don't know what I'm fighting for here either que no? I mean I know but I don't know you know?"

She showed him that she had a Beretta on the table for protection. "Survival. That's good enough reason for me..."

"Maybe...but is that all it's about? It's like we kill each other over petty shit que no? A pair of shoes. I mean...mayates...we make fun of them right...both north and south for icing each other over shoes but fuck we're really the ones that started a war over that shit. So it's kind of worse. They'll use it as an excuse to smoke somebody they already got beef with while us? Tht's the reason we're at war."

"Yeah...and the scrapas in the south...the real scrapas that is...they're warring with them now cause a Chapine got tagged in the face."

"Hey, I'm no Kanpolero, but that shit with the LS riots was fucked up. What happened to that man...and just the way the chotas are in general. i can sympathize with it all...shit...!" He winced.

She chuckled at his pain. "Oh what my suffering amuses you? Cabrona..."

"I didn't say just got a nice butt..." He blushed a bit but before he could ponder that she said, "You know it's funny. All the rappers or just bangers and killers, pimps and pushers say they're gonna put a cap in somebody's ass but usually, they shoot in the cabeza, piernas, armas, panza, whatever. But you actually did get a cap in the ass. So dispensa homie but it is a little bit funny. Maybe you should rap."

"I'm no Frost..." He said lighting a cigarette. "Where you from anyway? Can't be from 24th."

"I'm from 26th. They're trying to gentrify the varrio though."

"Yeah, I hear that. Shit is changing with the y2K coming up in a few years. Chingada!" She pulled out the second slug.

She dressed his wound and he got dressed. He put on a pair of black suspenders over a white wife beater, and a fedora. "I know this is a weird time to be asking but hey...you've already seen me with my pant down. You want to go out some time?"

She chuckled. "Usted no es sutil. Por supuesto. Por qué no? Aquí está mi número. They call me Shady by the way.

(You ain't subtle. Sure. Why not? Here's my number.)

2 Weeks Later

Javier had been asked to come along on a dope deal with Filo Loco in his own hometown of Ohlone. He was not sure about it however and he was dealing with a local crew. "I really aint sure about this shit, homie. I'm still healing up my 't get me wrong. You vatos were down I just don't know the east bay like you do."

"Yeah and I don't know the west bay like that, homie but you're my guest, dog. I'm here to make sure you stay safe and we get paid, pimp. I swear though, West Bay dudes always act all scary coming out here and I don't get it. I get it if it was some gavas but you're Northern Raza. You more afraid of Eastside Ohlone than the desert?"

"So who are these fools we're dealing with anyway?"

"Some cats from the Pinecone 'Jects. Now that's a real hood you don't wanna fuck around in. Don't get me wrong it's some fine ass big booty freaks there's a lot of killas, fiends and pimps. Cut throat motherfuckers. My neighborhood and theirs we fuck with each other to get money time to time."

They were meeting with some gangsters from a neighborhood called the Killa Dubs. "Isn't it a little out of your way, homes?" Asked Javier. "How's that?" Asked Filo. "You're from 51'st street and you're doing a jale with people from the 20's."

"Hey I just go where there's opportunity. It doesn't matter what hood. Besides, the fact that we live kind of out of the way from each other's good. Pigs wouldn't be so quick to assume we're doing business with them."

Two blacks approached them. The first was a darker skinned African American with glasses and a gray beret on yet he had a silver Pounders jersey and baggy blue jeans on. He also had a lot of stubble. He was overweight and only stood 5'8. He had gold teeth in his mouth. "What it do, pimp? Who's your boy?" He asked slapping hands with Filo. "That's the homie Yeska from Garcia."

"Yeska...so he about that bud life huh?" He then paused shaking hands with Javier. "Hold up but I thought mota meant weed though?"

"It both means the same shit..." Explained Javier. "Kinda like you say bud or dro or whatever. At least we aint saying Paka lolo."

"Awww shit...yeah like them Samoan niggas..." Said the fat black hustler. "Well look they call me Head Pike. Cause any niggas that fuck with me will have their heads on a pike. Don't nobody fuck with a Bay nigga's scrilla. Even another Bay nigga! Anyway, this motherfucker right here..." He said beckoning to his thinner lighter skinned friend who had an Afro and wore a black windbreaker a white shirt and gray jeans shorts, "That's PAW."

"Paw?" Javier asked with confusion. "That's Prince Ali of the West. Most around here call him Prince or just West or Ali. But being an egotistical motherfucker and all, this fool likes to be called Prince Ali Of The West."

"Prince Ali, huh? So I take it you read 1001 nights?" Asked Javier, a well read military man and a fan of classics such as Art Of War, Moby Dick, and the aforementioned book from which Ali took his name. "Nah, I aint heard of that. I just seen a movie...I forget what it's called...I thin...Saladin...? It's about this Arab cat in Iraq or some shit and he's poor. He ends up going to this cave to get a lamp. He ends up getting a genie and shit and there's this bad bitch h's trying to get with but they don't like that shit cause he's poor. And this other player hater with a parrot wants that lamp that's who sent him after it. Anyway, he becomes a prince named Ali. And how I'm not gonna aspire to that shit? He went from rags to riches. Aint that what we all trying to do?"

"I don't know about all that, homie..." Stated Filo. "It aint even about getting rich. My girl's about to be a mama, man and we need income. Simple as yeah I been grinding but I don't want them to want for nothing. And since she's done with the hood life now...I gots to grind for two."

"I feel it man..." Stated Paw. "So what we waiting on, dog?" Pike said, "The motherfucking plug, nigga. You know that. This kinda snow don't fall out the sky."

"So what is this anyway?" Asked Yeska. "I mean how much is all this even gonna cost?"

"Don't even worry, homes..." Assured Filo. "Me and them two...we put up on this. We got a sweet arrangement. This cat been coming to these streets since like the 80's. He started off in LS though and he honestly preferred it that way but hey I mean...Ohlone was the first city to make rocks you know? So why the fuck shouldn't we get in on this?"

"All right this is sounding sketchy, bro. What's the deal here?"

"Look, I'm just trying to help you out! Get you back on your feet, earn some bread. I know how expensive a place of your own is in Fierro. Shit is second only maybe to Liberty City."

"Aight I'll be real with you..." Stated Paw. "We got a deal with this motherfucker...don't really know who he works for. I don't think he five oh cause he broke enough laws to get his ass the needle but...he's something...anyway the deal we got with him is the same deal he made with his LS connects back in the 80's. We take ten bricks a week. In this case though, we was hurting for paper and so was Filo so we put our resources together. The whole hood and his whole hood. Making big moves. So we bought enough to buy 20 keys a week."

"How fuckin much?! For all of it? We talking 14 g's a key?!" Asked Javier. "Chale homes..." Said Filo his voice a little too quiet for his liking. "Ten g's a key. You lower the prices like that beat out any competition. Make hella bank."

"Shit, this is fuckin crazy! I'm outta here!" He started to leave but Pike said to Filo, "Hey homie I thought you said your boy was cool?"

"He is but he's still a little paranoid you know from the war?" Filo grabbed Javier by the arm. "What the fuck, bro. I thought you were down to do this with me?"

"I am but 20 keys of cocaína is..shit we're talking federal time. Never see parole. We'd be locked down tighter than Rafi for that shit."

"We know the risks but we've done this shit before. Mira, this way I get paid more and you will too. Don't you want that? Your hermana y tu jefita, bro. Think of them. They been struggling all this time..."

"Yeah but they aint gonna want shit bought by drug money."

"Come on, Javi. This is the ghetto. I can't afford to be picky and neither can you. Besides...Wino set this shit up..."

"Serio?" He beckoned to a maroon Glendale pulling up and Wino got out. The overweight Chicano hugged his cousin and then he slapped hands with Javier and did the same with him. "You signed off on this shit?"

"Hell yeah, bro. It's all about the feria. You might not be comfortable in the East Bay but Filo and the Killa Dubs know these streets like the back of their hands."

He asked Filo, "Como esta, primo? You good?" He was asking him if he was good after the shootout with the Vagos. "Ah hell naw! I got up too early.I need a couple more hours o sleep, loco I stayed up last night drinking like a motherfucker, homes!Head spinning... But I guess I gotta handle my business ese..."

This time, a black Willard pulled up and a scrawy lanky Caucasian male with thick curly brown hair and a thick beard wearing a blue sweater under a dark gray jacket and white jeans got out with two duffel bags full of product. Filo handed over his duffel bag full of money and so did Paw.

The 'contact; counted up the money and said, "You ever heard of a bank?"

"What you think would happen if a black man goes up in bank with a bag full of money? Especially ten g's or more?" Asked Paw.

"You're referring to a law that applies to everyone, Andre. Maybe you're going to the wrong bank."

"Maybe you can introduce me to the right bank?"

"Maybe if all goes well you can take a little bit more than ten keys a week?"

"Fo sho but for now let's just see how this goes cause we just upped it to twenty."

"Yeee!" Howled Head Pike and Filo did the same. That was a thing that was done in the Bay Area to express excitement but Javier had always thought it was stupid.

With that, they got their weight and each drove off. Javier saw that in his Glendale, Wino had a hyna from 24th with him. She was flamed up. Javier got back into the car with Filo who had two of his homies from his hood in the car. The first was a soldado of twenty two years with a black soul patch and he wore a bright aqua blue t shirt and he wore a dark red bandanna around his forehead tied bunny ears style. The other was wearing a plain black t, a gold rope chain and baggy blue jeans and he had light brown skin a thin mustache and jet black slicked hair. Filo began to drive them out of there. "You think we can move this shit in a week? That's a tall order, hombre..." Javier stated.

"That's easy money is what it is. We're talking big bank. And even though I'm kicking this shit up the ladder to the big homies from the hood and in the big house, I'm still clocking hella dollars. There was no reason to trip at all. Think about what you're gonna be making that you wouldn't have been if you hadn't come along."

"But I aint like you and your cousin. I don't got soldados on the corner to sling for me and pay me a percentage. I don't got it like that. I'm at the bottom of the barrel."

"Don't sell yourself short, Yeska. Is it true I gotta kick up a quarter of this shit to the barrio and the big homies? Hell yeah that's mando but at the same time, they'd be getting their cut from the little homies rocking that shit up and slinging anyway. I'll kick some on my end too so that the little homies aint the only ones being taxed and so they know I'm with them and I got them but hell I put in on the buy in for this so I deserve the remaining 50%. I mean they're my boys, Head Pike and Paw."

"Yeah but will your big homies be okay with that? You getting 50?" Asked Javier.

"They already knew what it is going into it. I mean it was my ass on the line if shit had gone sideways and it would have been me looking at fed time for distribution. I mean it's a finders fee. It was my idea to get our varrio involved in this shit. Since Wino's running shit for 24th he'll be the one handling the bulk of your cut but sabes que?" He took his hands off the steering wheel as he drove down 42nd street. "As a personal thank you, homie...this is yours too since we aint got this shit sold yet...something to get you straightened out while we wait for pay day."

"Damn, Filo this is like $800, man... gracias " He said as he counted it. "Hey don't mention it. You can thank me later, playa. Especially by doing this with me again. The way this shit sells? Your grandkids could do this kinda shit and be set for life!"

"Don't be saying that and besides you're about to be a papa too, cabron! You don't want to pass this on to your hijos."

"Yeah you're right my bad it was just a figure of speech. But for real though, there's a lot of smokers in O-Town. And why wouldn't there be? We started the rock grinding business we put that shit up on the map! LS might have been second in the game but I'm saying we showed them what's up. We can have the barrio on lock. And shit...if I get to be made into a carnal myself we could do this shit and have the homies get rich like that in every barrio in Ohlone."

"Yeah, maybe..." Yeska stated. "Shit, if business is that good, why not just do this in every hood in the city? Take out the competition, corner the market."

The song Thin Line by Kid Frost featuring Boo Ya Tribe & DeNatria Champ played on Radio Los Santos as they drove.

"Yeah but I'm cool with the brothers from the Killa Dubs don't don't go repeating that. We aint looking to muscle in on their turf and they don't with us."

"You sure sound sure they can be trusted. Just cause they're from out here?"

"Hell, what you don't trust motherfuckers from Dillimore, homie?"

"I only trust about half of my own hood to tell you the truth..." Stated Javier. "Used to just be Garcia love all the way for me but the way things have been lately, I'm not so sure now. It's different when you're a kid, man. Hella different. And yeah most of the city is nothing like Dillimore or Garcia or Doherty. Most of it is a bunch of rich ass hipsters. But even if we don't want to be like them, don't we still want the same success as them?"

The repeating pop of automatic fire startled Javier and he froze a moment his heart beating as it took him back. He saw the mustard gas in the air...he felt the heat of the masks they'd had to wear. He could smell the burning oil that went on for days. He could see the birds dropping dead out of the sky from the fumes. He saw kids with one leg. "Shit..."

"Javier, get the cuete, bro!" Screamed Filo. "The Paisa Hermanos are hitting us!"

"Mirate! Danos el producto que pinche pochos! ¡O los mataremos a todos!" Screamed a gang member who was firing an AK-47 as he leaned out of an Emperor and he fired striking one of Filo's homies from 51st street in the side of the face blowing off the right half of his face. "FUCK!" Screamed Filo as he returned fire with his 9mm which was all he had in his reach at the moment. His homie had been killed instantly.

Meanwhile, just two blocks away, the Killa Dubs had been T Boned by some of the Paisano Hermanos as well. The passenger window shattered in the gray Tornado of Head Pike and Paw. The glass cut Paw's arm while Pike was more injured as the car crashed and he had his head split open. The PH members fired on their car and hit their two soldiers they had as backup, the first a black male with freckles and dreadlocks that were lighter brown almost londe in color wearing a Magnetics T shirt green and white and baggy blue jeans. He took six rounds in the right side of the the chest. The other, a much darker skinned black male, had jherri curls under a white baseball cap and a white parka over a gray t shirt and he took three rounds in his left arm going straight t the artery. He died almost instantly.

The two East Ohlone gangsters who remained got out of the car firing, Pike with his Beretta and Prince Ali with his Glock 19 returnin fire at a black SUV a Cavalcade that rained fire on them. Pike managed to hit the driver with two shots in the left side of the neck and the vehicle swerved letting out a loud screech before crashing into a children crossing sign. Paw ran to the side of the vehicle despie his injuries and relied on the shock and whiplash of the crash to deal with the remaining three shooters. He fired ten rounds into the car the first striking the passenger in the front seat with three rounds in the left side of the face. The gangster had on a bright red checkered t shirt and a green bandanna on the lower part of his face and a red one on the upper part. "These dudes Rifas too...?" Asked Head Pike in a dizzy voice. "Nah, homie. It's them PH bitches the homies from 51st be warning us about."

Pike fired his pistol emptying the magazine with one hand turned sideways not to look cool but because the blow to his head threw him off. With the four gang members dead, he allowed himself to collapse. "Shit! Yo hold up nigga! I got you!" Prince Ali said. Just then, he heard the crack of gunshots up the street and he even saw the muzzle flashes. He saw Wino firing and dropping two PH members as had his homegirl but his friend from 24th street ended up taking eight rounds in the stomach. Wino was wounded and on the ground, however.

Paw dragged his friend as best as he could towards the Chicano gang member. "Hey, man! Is your whip working?" The cholo chook his head. "Fuck no! They broke my leg too... and they clipped my carnalala, Paula! i don't want to leave her like this dead in the street but I can't walk..."

"I aint tryna leave my boys like that neither man but by rides fucked up. Look...I'll help yo ass in their ride..." He said beckoning to an SUV driven by the deceased PH members. "But my homies coming with. And I need to use that cell phone you had if it's still working."

He helped his homie into the ride and then helped Wino in. "And uh...one more string attached, dog. After what just happened here...? i'm gonna have to set your ride on fire...and mine..."

"Shit..." Wino said, distraught. "That's my baby, man! Fuck it though...i can't enjoy mi carro behind bars now can I? You're just gonna have to take me to a hospital in the next county or something, man cause I can't think of a good enough excuse to tell la jura why I got a broken leg, homes. They know we're not coming back from a ski lodge..."

Meanwhile, Yeska and Filo made their way from the car but still used it as cover as the PH members fired on them. Javier managed to hit one, a Mexican male of about 5'6 who was built like a Soccer hit him with three rounds in the left side and followed up with a fourth into his lung. He fell over bleeding and Filo fired seven rounds just to hit one of them as he blindly fired but he did strike the driver with one round. "These fuckin scandulous ass chuntis, bro...we gotta defend the varrio from the man, they're trying to take over! If it was't bad enough we got scrapas on 57th and we damn near ran them out now these fuckers..."

"Jesus...this was supposed to be a done deal, Filo...easy money, cabron. I gotta go home to my jefita and sister...it was hard enough just explaining why I was there in the area when Fernando got hit by the fools in my neighborhood. Now this shit?"

"Man fuck that Va Ho punk, man. It's ancient history that shit don't matter now. It's done. The V Hole Ratas will have to find some other homie of theirs to cry about when another flamed up loco serves their punk asses. And you know there's no reward if there's no risk, man! You need this shit, playa! We all do. Everybody needs a challenge."

"Yeah when I think challenges it's learning to play hockey or fuckin going for a hike in the mountains. Not getting shot at..." They drove off and soon Filo got a call from Paw telling him what had happened. At least, however, they had all managed to repel the attack and get away with the dope. Now they were headed across the Gant Bridge. "Look, when those fools started shooting, I saw you freeze up for a second. You kicked into gear when you had to but that's trauma. I had an uncle in Nam and he killed hella commies but you don't gotta kill somebody to get trauma. You need to sue the fuckin military. Serio."

"Even if I could, I doubt I would win carnal..." Javier said with a sigh.

* * *

 _Okay that's it for this chapter not long but not short either. Happy medium. So Javier has PTSD. And he froze up momentarily. With the Paisa Hermanos hitting them up, that's a bad time to freeze. I know I have used that rinse and report style of mission shooting with a drug deal and then rival gang comes in to jack all parties and makes off with either the money the drugs or both. Tis time, I had them successfully repel the attack without losing their drugs but not without injuries and casualties. So Javier AKA Yeska is not having an easy time of being back home as he's been in more than one shootout._

 _The Paisa Hermanos as in other stories, are based on the Border Brothers who in oakland are the biggest rivals of Nortenos. The 51st street Rifas are obviously based on the 51st street set of Nortenos and Killa Dubs is obviously Murder Dubs but fear not as much of Javier's story will be in Ohlone as much as San Fierro (Plus other cities based on Northern Cali cities such as Modesto and Salinas down the line) they will not be the only local gang that will be featured there._

 _As for Imala and her fight with Sheila I did plan on having her and her friends infiltrate a biker bar but I didn't want that to happen this chapter. Next chapter is when that will happen and this time I will feature all six protagonists in the same chapter it was just hard to do so before and some chapters will be all six some will just be two at a time some will be four. Don't worry I won't fuck you ever the way the walking dead does weekly with focusing on one or two characters when it's supposed to be ensemble I won't do that every time. You can call me a hater but I actually want the original walking dead story to end. I know these idiots plan to make it go on and on doesn't mean they should. I actually am starting to hate the walking dead for a number of reasons. It's already boring to just only have the show be about surviving and tehy long since stopped trying to figure what caused walkers.i also hate how they present this logic that you have to be strong to survive and if you're soft you die. But Eugene, however smart he is is still alive. So it's not even logically consistent._

 _I can't think of an actress who should represent Sheila but honestly she's somewhat based on Shannon of Rose Cassidy from Fallout New Vegas. Namely their appearance and age but also i can't ppicture any actress that resembles her except Emma Stone and be honest can you see her throwing down?_

The Huns MC are based on the Mongols MC much like the Great Khans of New Vegas. Do you think the Huns were in on the robbery alone or was it a mixed crew with other organizations?

 _Raven is actually based on this Alaskan chick I knew her and her sister were both hot and smelled good. Let's just saythey left a good enough impression that idon't mind frm now and then basing ocs in a story or two off them. Plus the sister of Raven cracked me up so hard when she went off on a woman i knew on facebook and warned me to stay away from said woman saying said woman was a snitch who ratted on her own friends to the police. She just basically made fun of her for being fat and bisexual at the same time and it's just the way she worded things was hillarious. Native women have a way of cussing people out that really is funny unless you're on the recieving end. I have another friend who when she was a teen made adults cry from her insults. That's also something Imala Blackfox has a trait for too as you saw with what she said to Sheila to egg her on._

 _She's going to be one of my more witty and mouthy characters without a doubt._

 _Haven't decided in Jose or Waha for visual basis either._

 _Filo Loco is visually inspired by the late rapper Polo Loko from Dark Room Familia. What Zilla said about how I was portraying Rifas and then what I told hom mot Norteos are like now I mean yeah that's true and today you'd probably find nobody from Oakland or Frisco outside of OG's that were like Javier and his friends but this as '96 all though at the same time, with showing Filo Loco and basing him on a rapper who kinda talks like a mix of Calo and "Hyphy" slang, it would illustrate sort of the start of that whole change._

Head Pike is visually based on E-40. The white dude that they made he dope deal with he's an IAA contact and he's visually based on Teddy from Snowfall the show set in South Central which was written by John Singleton and is on FX which by September 4 will be sharing a lineup with Mayans MC. The second season is now out on that. I don't know how those of you who haven't seen it can get caught up on the first season and the episodes so far but it's worth it.

 _Prince Ali Of The West or PAW is visually based on Mac Dre. Am I fan of the music of either one? No. But they're both from Oakland. So is Too Short and he'll be in this later i somewhat can tolerate his style more but I don't like that pure Oakland sound. Maybe it's cause Too Short is actually also from LA he was just raised in Oakland so he has a bit of both styles. But E-40...it would be easy to say Hip Hop went to shit when just the southern rappers took over but honestly on the west coast we can blame E-40 for that and he's close culturally to the south and the south if they like the west coast it's usually Oakland they relate to culturally cause thy're gawdy. Anyway E-40 all though I saw him as a clown and thought his voice sounded like a discount Shock G from Digital Underground, some of his music was so bad it's almost enjoyable in a strange way at least it was back when i was more into Hip Hop. Like that song he did with T Pain._

 _That's also true that Prince Ali IE the real Alladin would have been Chinese not Arab. I mean it's cool that Disney was showing that anyway Arabs should be more satisfied with Aladin. We got Pocahontas and that movie is an insult to the memory of Matoaka. But i don't know why they traded in one eastern culture for another. Maybe it has something to do with Islamic travels to China. And like Javier i hate that yeee bullshit. I assume it started in Oakland in fact I know it did I don't know who did it exactly but in my city people do it too mostly stoners but still they look like retards._

 _As for the woman that patched up Javier, La Nalgona, she is visually based on the retired pornstar Esperanza Diaz who sadly never did anal but i swear she looks as close to what Flakiss the rapper looks like if she were a pornstar as I can think of. Even though she's from Canoga Park in LA, it seems in her pornos I see her wear red more than blue so simple as that. And yes Dilimore from San Andreas may have been in the countryside but in this I had it represent the neighborhood it rhymes with in San Fransisco._

As far as whether Waha'yoo Taba and Jose White Eagle go with the three women as nomads to watch their backs, I say reviewers choice. I leave it to you. I will honor whichever choice.

Hope you enjoyed.


	7. Am I My Brothers Keeper?

El Corona , Los Santos

Y Tu, Bruto?

Eladora came back to see police and crime scene tape. She approached Dreamer and Lolita were yelling at the cops in Spanish. They drew their service pistols on them. A cop, a white male with shaggy red hair and a thin mustache demanded, "You. Where you from?"

"I just live up the street officer. I just took the bus back home."

"Then you can get on your knees too. Interlock your fingers and put them behind your head. Let's go. Now."

She did as she was told. She noticed several more gang members lined up in the position too. "Now i know you saw something. You two little putas are covered in blood..." Stated a Mexican American female officer of about 5'4 who was originally from Little Mexico, an Azteca neighborhood. Officer Raina Gonzales. They didn't say a word. "You claim to be down for your varrio, right? Tricky's your homie? What if he dies tonight? You know you kids just go into rival neighborhoods and you don't ever get the right people who did it. You just end up spraying some other innocent or somebody that didn't do shit to you."

"We aint no fuckin snitches!" Lolita growled. The male cop punched her in the stomach. "Shut up! When we want you to talk we'll talk to you!"

The female cop began to pat down the various gang members. Eladora noticed Smiley, a Mexican born gangster of 20 years who had come to the US at the age of 12. He was originally from Morelia. He stood 5'7 and he had dark brown skin. He was of Perpecha ancestry. He had a mostly shaved head but he had the varrio cut into the back of his hair. He wore a brown and blue plaid jacket and white starched khakis with Stacy Lane shoes. There was also Sadie "Shady" Perez, an eighteen year old chola wearing a yellow and white checkered shirt over a white tank top. She had curly black hair and light brown skin the color of caramel. "Pinche perra..." She growled at Raina.

Next was a gang member of Chicano ancestry. He was seventeen and his real name was Raul Estrada but around the hood he was known as Enojado. He had light brown skin and a shaved head a mustache thick with black hair as his head had been before he shaved it and a soul patch. He was 5'6 and skinny. He'd been to juvie and spent his fifteenth birthday there and didn't et out until he was sixteen. In fact, his bad behavior had earned him an extra year and they had sent him to San Andreas Youth Authority. When he got out, about two months after he had got out, he had been shot in the face catching a bullet in his jaw. He had almost died and he had lost sixty pounds as a result. He had survived, however.

"Hey, I don't consent to a search, fuckin puerco! I know my rights!" The cop shoved her to the ground and yelled, "Shut up!" Eladora glared at the Chicana female as she patted her down while the male held her down. "You don't wanna tell us anything, that's fine. Maybe we'll just ask your brother instead?" Officer Gonzales sneered. "No. You can't question a minor without a guardian..." Eladora stated. The male cop, officer Bernie Baker replied, "Kid, you are a fuckin minor. Where are your parents?"

She refused to answer. "I should hall your ass down to the precinct too, chica..." Sneered Gonzales. "But I don't feel like filling out the extra paperwork."

"I'm seeing nothing but young spics out here..." Growled Baker. "Where's your jefe at, huh?!" He had thought he was out of ear shot of Raina. "What the fuck did you just say?" She demanded. "I'm sorry..." He said in a low voice. "But I meantthem not you..."

She told him, "Tu sabes, I gota black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I ever hear you say that shit on or off duty ever again you and me are gonna tangle."

"Roger that..." He said. Smiley looked at her and said, "Pinche pocha! ¿Eso es todo lo que necesitas para perdonar a este gavacho? Tu realmente eres su esclavo"

"What did he just say?" Demanded Officer Baker. "Don't worry about it," She said but leaned in at the paisa gangster. "You call me a fuckin pocha homes? You're the one out here blasting on your own raza. Don't you ever call me that. I'll fucking beat your ass to the ground, homeboy!"

"I'm sorry..." Smiley said. "I meant to say coconut."

She hit hit with the night stick in the sides and he doubled over coughing. "That's police brutality right there!" Screamed Dreamer. "Fucking bitch!"

Finally Gonzales sat her up. They booked Smiley, Enojado and La Amenaza. Baker promised Eladora, "I catch you out here gang banging...I'll drop you off in Marastown and let the homeboys run a train on you. Or maybe Strawberry. How does Forum Drive sound to you? Get your red snapper worn out by a bunch of frogs?"

She wanted to tell him to fuck off but knew this would just get her more abuse. She just looked away. Before his partner got back in the car, he hit her with the tazer and she cried out falling to the ground. "You motherfucker!" Screamed Lolita. He zapped her and Dreamer next. "Shut for you to sleep it off!"

He got into the car. "I should report you for that..." Gonzales stated. "You could have killed her!"

"But I didn't. And you won't. Nobody trusts a cop that goes to Internal Affairs, Raina. You know that. We're C.R.A.S.H. This is what we do!"

Danny came up to her. "Eladora, ¿estás bien? ¿Por qué la policía te hizo esto?"

(Eladora are you alright? Why did the police do this to you? )

"Siempre le hacen esto a nuestra gente. Si somos pandilleros o no. ¿Qué les has dicho?"

(They always do this to our we're gangsters or not. What did you tell them?)

"Just that I heard shots when I was getting sodas and chips."

"Orale. Good. Don't tell them more than that."

"I didn't, El!" The Central American 12 year old insisted. "I wanted to kick Officer Baker in the balls for doing what he did to you."

"Don't. They'll shoot you. Whether you're a kid or not. He'll get what he's got coming to him. Let an adult handle it. Give me two years...i can take him. Or maybe with a pistola I'll catch him and that bitch off guard..."

"No. They'll kill you. Then I'll be alone!" He said with fear in his dark eyes.

"Don't worry. I aint going nowhere. I'll never leave you. That's a promise."

He then said, "Hey...! My first game is next week Can you make it?"

She smiled. "Of course! Wouldn't miss it for the world, carnalito."

She wanted him to stay playing baseball and doing regular kid stuff rather than get mixed up in the varrio. The school year was pretty much over for him so she'd have to watch out for him extra close.

Three Days Later

11:AM

Mona knocked on the door to their house. She opened the door. "What is it?"

"Tricky's outta surgery. Big Raymond...he got word to us to 't hit them back yet. Wait till they're slipping.

"How long? Tricky's my homeboy. i don't want to let those Mensa putos get away with that."

"We won't, esa."

""Listen, we gotta wait for hitting up those Fresa pendejos but we got other business we gotta handle, carnala..."

"Que?"

"Los Aztecas. They're our biggest problem right now. They're in our neighborhood and we don't want them there. They tried to drive us out and gente were laying low after the riots around here but sabes que? This is our hood. It's in our name. Those Azteca lames are from Unity Station. That's where they belong."

"So what are you looking to do?"

"Tricky wants us to pick him up from the hospital. Dreamer will get a different car for our jale but he wants to take out this OG from their neighborhood. Some vato who has a mayata for a hyna. She's the sister of two OG's from the Trannies too..."

"Oh I think I heard of them. Some of them blasted on guys from our varrio, right?"

She nodded. "Tricky was in LS County Jail for the riots but he lost a few homeboys over the battle for La Corona. We gotta get revenge for the carnales that fell that day."

"I'm down for that..." With that they got into Mona's car. She began to drive them to the Central Los Santos hospital. "That day..." Eladora said. "I remember a few compas died that day. Didn't Jasper die that day?" She nodded. "So did Oscar. We're also doing this for Tricky's comarada Ace. He died too defending the neighborhood."

"If we kill this vato won't the guy he was rolling with come back on us? The Grove Streeter?"

"Nah. He don't even live in the city no more. His other brother bought it from the Ball Sacks and as far as I know he either doesn't care enough to come home and take revenge or he did and I didn't hear about it. Or he just doesn't know who did it. But you'd think he'd have a problem with the Covenant Avenue guys posting up on his block. Their family home aint even there anymore. Ballas saw to that."

"Still this is a risky move. I mean I heard stories about that guy. Things they say he did all over the state? I don't know if it's true but...pues we're not even in our 20's yet. I don't know how much we could do if a multi millionaire CEO type decided to come back at us..."

"Oh shit I guess maybe he did avenge his brother! But tu sabes...when his brother died he still stopped giving a fuck about his hood. It was like that dude was born to do something beyond the streets. But this lame from the Aztecas...they act like it's ther varrio and yeah the Aztecas did push in on our hood a generation ago and they act like it's always been theirs. They think the whole west side belongs to them. It's bullshit. Just like those Mara Cuca lames but they aint ever gonna go nowhere."

"Not what I hear, esa...I heard they got deported a lot of their OG's and they started recruiting in Central America. No mames...I know how things like that go. It can spread like wildfire. They might have tried to use the domino theory about communism from the Vietnam war in my homeland but sabes que? Communistas aint the ones that started taking over. It's the pinche maras that did. And I heard the same shit happened with Aztecas too. They're down there."

"Yeah but people like to say a lot of shit that aint true. You ask me it's just chavalas trying to talk up their hood. We don't need to be in El Salvador or Mexico! We're ight fuckin here!" Proclaimed Mona. "La Corona! And that's some other shit those putos from the Ass Tasters got wrong. It's fuckin La Corona not El Corona. Some fuckin pocho or pocho must have come up with that shit. I heard it was a Samoan dude that started Aztecas. Maybe he did that?"

"Nah, cause he was still from Unity. It probably was some pocho. Still, their madres taught them Spanish! They should know when an El is in a sentence and when La is. Pendejos..."

"Lo Se. It's like they're some fuckin white boys from Scotland or something that moved out here and don't know Espanol."

As they drove the song Mi Familia by Kid Frost played/. Finally they showed up outside the hospital. Tricky was on crutches. "Damn the homeboy heals fast!" She observed. With him was a sixteen year old homeboy who often didn't talk much. They called him Shyboy. He was always wearing either a white or black fedora and when he wasn't he would have either a light blue, a yellow a brown or black bandanna low on his forehead over his eyes practically. He stood about 5'6 and he had actually been a nerd in High School but he got jumped a lot until he started rolling with Varrio Corona. He was mostly pretty scrawny and had a light brown complexion but he often lifted dumb bells in the parking lot to get in shape. He still often wore reading glasses but he dressed the part and walked the walk but he mostly didn't talk the talk.

Still, he had Tricky's back to the fullest because Tricky had been the vato to look out for him when the Aztecas had tried to bully him. He didn't say it but Eladora got the feeling that the mostly silent Chicano hated Aztecas more than any other varrio. In addition to often being at Tricky's side, it seemed he was also just as much out to go kill some Aztecas as he was to be with his homeboy at the hospital. Shyboy told Mona, "Pop the trunk..." She did and he put the crutches inside while Eladora and Mona helped Tricky into the back seat of the car. "I can do it myself..." He insisted. Shyboy hopped in the front seat. They drove towards 106th where Dreamer would be waiting. "What kind of coche did Dreamer get, eh?" Asked Encabronada. "She jacked a Hermes..." Replied Mona.

"Nice!" She exclaimed. They pulled up to the car and Dreamer was ready for them. She got them out. Dreamer gave them weapons as well. She handed Eladora an Uzi. Mona was given a Remington 1100. Tricky had an AK-47. "Hey maybe you should let me shoot that, ese!" Suggested Mona. "You're still hurt"

He shook his head. "Chale. I've been waiting to get this fucker for more than three years."

"You were locked up. What could you have done?" Asked Eladora

They pulled up finally arriving in the Aztecas part of the hood. Eladora was driving. "We gotta hit these putos up carefully, and I can't stick around cause I can't walk...this is just stage one of it. Let their OG get smoked. Then later we come in to kick the rest of these levas outta here. Varrio Corona! Fuck Ass takers! They aint shit."

"If it's just a simple drive by why's Dreamer here?" Asked Eladora. "Oye pinche pendeja it was for the coche. Wake up, stupid!"

"Don't mind him, chica..." Mona said. "Hes just pissed cause he's in a lot of pain..."

"They got him on medication..." Stated Shyboy. "Hey fucker don't be tellimg my business! The fuck is wrong with you? Be glad I'm not Big Raymond..."

They pulled up alongside a house with a garage. A moving truck was driving out and a red Savannah with a light brown skinned Mexican American man in a dark blue flannel jacket who had a buzz cut and a goatee and an African American woman with a dark green bandanna print midriff top on. She had her curly hair down as opposed to tied back. They were talking and laughing. "Hey, mija check this one out, eh. You gotta get some of that Latin flavor to your Hip Hop!" The song You're No Good by Kid Fost blasted. "Ooh shit baby...this shit bumps like a motherfucker! Makes me wanna dance!"

Eladora had to admit she loved that song too but now was now was no time. "Wait till they get on the freeway...then pull me up alongside..." Ordered Tricky. "T who are these fools really? What's their names man?"

"You just got put on. Your job aint to ask questions it's to do what you're told, eh!" Shyboy, in rare form, again spoke up but said little. "On the serio, Ela, they're not even worth knowing the names of."

The van was moving onto the bridge and was behind the moving van. "I don' know where they're looking to move to but they're getting a fuckin real estate downgrade!" Tricky growled. They sped up alongside. "THIS IS FOR ACE!" He roared looking into the surprised face of the mestizo gang anger. The man reached for a 9mm but he never had a chance. Eladora fired her Uzi at them letting off twelve rounds. The first one hit him in the chin going down to the bone sawing away at it as more came in.

Three hit his girlfriend, one in the left ear blowing her lobe of and two in her upper chest. Tricky did far more damage. His AK rounds hit the man seven times in the chest. His remiaining 7.62 rounds pumbled his already bleeding face until there was nothing lef but an empty hallowed out skull with brain matter gone Mona fired her shotgun twice. The first shot hit the windshield cracking it up like a spider web. It also sent some pellets hitting the black woman in her left arm tearing at the muscle. Another blast obliterated her sinew disconnecting her arm from her shoulder by about 80%. Blood sprayed all over the car. The man took six rounds in his right arm destroying the tendon and blood came out in dark artierial sprays.

Shyboy, though he spke little, was very violent and he pulled his mostly headless carcass from the car throwing him into the street like he was trash. Mona did the same pulling the woman out. "Let's get this shit to the Trans fender, homes!" Cried Tricky. "They can fix this shit up."

"You sure, Tricks? Mechanic;'s gonna be pissed we just took one of his customers off the map. A ranfla like this? You can't tell me this guy doesn't get his shit customized every now and then!"

Tricky put his crutches into the back seat and hobbled in. "I don't give a fuck! eEven with these crutches man...he'll do what we tell him if he knows what's good

They tore up the street in the Savannah with Shyboy trying to get the blood off the window with the windshield wipers.

The truck stopped and two men got out, both Mexican American the first had a shaved head and a mean look to his face and he had deep brown skin and a goatee and stood 5'7 and he fired a 9mm. So did the other truck driver an older paisa with longer black hair and ahandle barg mustache. Eladora and Mona took cover. Eladora fired her emaining Uzi rounds and as she hit the man with the handle bar mustache she realized that she didn't check her ammo but she was in fact a rookie shooter even if Sapo had shown her some things, that par of it was taking some time for her. She killed the man instantly riddling him with the magazine. Mona hit the other vato in the left leg the blast going right through his tendon and blowing out his left knee. Eladora ran up taking the pistols off the fallen. She cchecked their tattoos.

One had a tattoo of Tonantzin on his left side of his neck and a mexica pyramid under it. "These fools are Aztecas, eh! I thought felons couldn't get a moving truck job?!" Just then the man that Mona shot cried out, "Stupid ass pita! The whole varrio's coming down on both of you. Whoever you are!"

"We're taking this neighborhood over..." vowed Mona. "Ass Tossers have no future in La Corona!" She hit him in the face with the butt of the guitar. Just then several rounds came flying at the two homegirls. They ducked behind the moving truck and Eladora looked and saw that five Aztecas were coming from the houses that had been closest to the bridge.

"Fuck, man! These vaos leeft us hanging without backup!" Cried Mona. "They know I don't like to have a man or nobody fight for me so they figured locas can take care of business!" Shouted Eladora. "We gotta be more for the varrio than just being future stay at home moms or fuck buddies. I don't respect the bitches that laid on their back to get in the cliqua! But shit...I do wish we had a few homegirls to back us right now!"

Just then, Dreamer was back firing two .45 caliber auto's striking two men in the back as she had flanked them. She soon came under fire herself and she ducked behind a gray Picador as the rounds flew at her. Eladora returned fire with both 9mm's and Mona tried to hit them from the distance she was at but it didn't have as great of range as she would have liked though she did hit one of them in the riht shoulder.

More Aztecas were coming but to Eladora's delight, she also saw three cars pull up. a gold Peyote, a light blue Glendale with four people in it and a black Slamvan. Celocita, and Lolita were coming from the peyote. They both opened fire. Celocita had a Tec 9 while Lolita carried a sawed off shotgun in one hand and a Mac-10 in the other. She let the two blasts of buckshot off striking down three Aztecas in a mess of blood as two were killed instantly while a third crawled with his arm blown apart with the under side of his forearm blown away revealing the flesh and sinew and bone beneath. Having blown her two shots, Lolita fired her automatic next. She hit six Aztecas wounding all but not killing any this time.

From the Glendale emerged four cholos. Ralph Cardenas, a man with high yellow brown skin and curly hair and a black mustache and goatee standing at 5'7. He was a multigenerational gan banger. v Though he was primarily of mestizo ancestry from ne part of his family he had a little bit of African blood possbly as much as 25% and it was believed this was because of the part of his family that was from Eastern Mexico in Veracruz bordering the Caribbean.

He had several children and he was twenty three years old. One of his sons was eight years old. He was always wearing a Liberty City Swingers jersey. He had two .357's which he fired striking down an Azteca female who was trying to help her wounded boyfriend to cover. He hit her three times in the back. Next was Antonio Salas.

Antonio was eighteen years old and originally from Acapulco, Mexico. His family had been farmers but had left the city two years prior when the North American Fair Trade Agreement had screwed over a lot of Mexican corn farmers. They still could not speak English even as they lived in South Los Santos. Because of this, they were ignorant to their sons gang banging career which he had adopted shortly after getting here.

He had only completed the twelfth grade in Mexico and yet in the American school system, he had been sent to an ESL class. He took to English well enough but he still had a thick accent and he was in the seventh grade at age sixteen. After two years of that and being an eighteen year old freshmen, he had had enough of school and dropped out.

He was a dark skinned teen who had gained muscle from lifting dumb bells in the parking lots after school. He had a large but flat and wide nose and medium sized lips and dark brown eyes and he stood at 5'7. His street name was Stranger. He carried an AK-47 and he wore a pair of black dickies and a white wife beater under a yellow and white checkered plaid shirt.

Over his face was a light blue rag while over his head was a black one. "Varrio Cornona, ese! Fuck Ass Lickers!" He howled as he rained fifteen rounds towards a carload of Aztecas bunched into a gray Hermes.

He saw red as the rounds hit and he hit the driver and one of the vatos in the back seat. Next was Richard El "Tamal" Ramos. El Tamal was a man of Salvadoran descent with a skater style haircut. He wore a lightblue checkered flannel jacket and tan khakis and he carried an AR-15 which he fired at the men in the back.

Finally, from the Slamvan was 20 year old Bernardo "El Bruto" Estrada. He was a hulky six foot Chicano male with a shaved head and a handle bar mustache. He'd been out on the streets for a year but he had gone to camp and ended up doing two years in county jail for assault during the had beaten up on a caucasian store owner with a baseball bat after the man had shot his friend with a 12 gauge during their attempt to loot an electronics store. He had broken the man's jaw, both arms, busted his knee caps, knocked out eight of his teeth, and fractured his ribs. And this was before his growth spurt two years later.

He was now armed with a cocktail instead. He tossed it through the house window that had belonged to the shot caller. "We took your ranfla your OG and your chante, putos! This varrio is ours!"

They soon high tailed it out of there heading back to 104th. El Bruto approached Eladora. "Hey Encabronada! Que pasa mija? Listen it's good to hear you're with us now. This shit aint easy but sabes que? We're familia..."

"Te lo agradezco, homie. Corona ... es tanto mi hogar como la patria, ¿sabes? Mis padres nunca lo verían de esa manera."

(I appreciate that, homie. Corona...it's as much my home as the homeland, you know? My parents would never see it that way. )

"¡Por supuesto! Se trata de dónde estás tanto como de dónde eres. Pero en realidad, eres de Corona."

(Of course! It's about where you're at just as much as where you're from. But really, you're from Corona.)

"That's not what imeant, homes. I meant claiming the neighborhood."

"Hey, I get it. My parents weren't down with me being down but it's done. They don't even speak English they don't know what's up. And now? They don't have a choicee in how I turned out. my hermanito, my sis they got a shot at a better way but I'm their oldest and I remember how it was growing up out here."

"I grew up here too, carnal. I'monly a little youngerthan you."

"Lo se. But you were just a kid in the 80's you're just a kid now. Me, I was sixteen during theriots. vallas was popping around here every day. Mirate, homegirl, we need to get the fuck outta here!"

He took off and said, "i'll see you back in the varrio!" Eladora retreated back to her car with Mona along with Dreamer and Mona. "Fuck, do you really think just what we did here is gonna clear the Aztecas outta here?" Worried the Salvadoran and Honduran woman. "That wasn't all the Ass Suckers, if that's what you're asking, chiquita!" Mona replied. "But it don't matter. After today? The juras are gonna be all over the spot. The Aztecas are laying low."

"That's how you take over a varrio, too. just post up on the block. The aztecas will wnt to hit us but not only will the pigs have eyes on our hood and probably any other hood the Aztecas got beef with...which is pretty much allof em...they'll be keeping a close lid on them 'll watch them like a hawk. They'll watch their riders try and go out and the black and whites will flag em down. And with vaos posted up on the blockk in a hot neighbehood those fools will start to want to ey won't be able to. Then more homies post up till we outnumber them in their own fuckin hood Except it aint their hood it's ours. It's our varrio placa, our varrio name. This aint 18th street! This is motherfuckin Corona!" Howled Dreamer.

"That's fuckin stupid, aint gonna think the Aztecas aint gonna hit us up as soon as they can?"

"They're gonna have the chotas all over their calles and they'll have the fire department. Chales. It's way too hot. Hotter than that fire El Bruto just caused at that bitches place."

"But I'mjust saying! Maybe the vatos will be stupid enough to post upon an enemies block but we're supposed tobe smarter than that, que no?" Stated Eladora. "Homegirls plan, homeboys react..."

"Well if you're down for it..." Dreamer said cracking open a can of beer. "We can do one more thing that will get the Ass bestas the fuck outta Corona too. Only I don't wanna hear no chavala shit about you don't wannado it,okay? You helpme do this."

"Sure. I just don't want there to even be any Aztecas around here..." Stated Eladora. "They could come backat me and that's fine but they shouldn't be so nearby. Let those punks come out here from Unity. They shouldn't be right in our back yard. I don't mind if they fuck with me. They just better not fuck with mi familia. And they better not try and get at my parents either. On this side of the border or the other side. Cause I know how Aztecas are deported and shit. I'll lay all those lames out if they fuck with mi familia..."

;

In her head however, she thought to herself, _Then you shouldn't have gotten put on the varrio you stupid fuckin bitch!_ However she merely said, "Orale Dreamer. Let's do it. You just name the time and I'll be there early. "

"Firme, girl..." Replied Dreamer. Mona also added, "I'm gonna sit that one out. I'm trying toget some dick. It's been a dry spell for me,"This earned a howlof laughter from the oher two but she said, "But Encabronada, me and Dreamer are still gonna talk about the plan. You just need to page us and let us know if you wanna do that shit after we hit up tjose Fresa putos for coming at Tricky or before."

Dreamer nodded. "Yeah, schoolgirl. You let us know. I'm cool with either way just so long as we hit up those Leva chavalas too. They could have hit Danny too."

Encabronada then said, "Oye...we stillon for Danny's game?"

"Fuckyeah...we'll bethere all the homies will be there. They'llbe playing some lames from Strawberry too. But we'llhave the homefield advantage...cause my brother's playing too and he's a power hitter."

Eladora gulped. On one hand she understood the need tokeep up appearances for law enforcement by showing up to a ball gameto supportfriends and family who were not banging this was innocent enough and it would mke it looklike that was what the homies were up to. But on the other hand, it also invited the chance of Varrio Fresa being there since there would be the little league team from a school from there. It was a coed team so there would be boys and girls. In truth,Eladora had played when she was Danny's age too. She had held onto her childhood long enough to hang on to things like that too. She wanted the same for Danny but to never join any gang.

Then again maybe there would be police officers at the spot. She hated to rely on them for anything but in this case, that was what was needed. She felt like a coconut though, due to the fact that they had just been brutalized and harassed by the cops after Tricky had been wounded. She sighed however and said, "Yeah. Let's meet up at the game."

Days Later

Danny was the second basemen. Two people from the the other team, the Pain Elemenary School Grizzlies were on base. Danny's team was the Helen Chavez Elementary School Beavers. Their colors were blue and gold while the Grizzlies were brown and black jerseys. On third base was an African American sixth grader who was chubby but strong wih dark yet ashy skin and big brown eyes. He had hit a triple. The kid on first base was a Mexican American and he had simply been hit with the ball so he got a walk to first base. The score was 4-3 in the top of the 9th inning with the Grizzlies in the lead. Eladora had always liked baseball but what she hated about it was how sometimes you could go most of a game with very few points scored.

Now at bat was another African American kid who was 5th grade and was the opposing team's center fielder. The pitcher, Raul Dominguez, a Mexican American, threw a curve ball. The bat connected and the crack of the aluminum bat filled the air. The ball landed just past first and second base. The Strawberry kid on third made it home. The kid on first made it to second before the center fielder, Carlos Estrada could get it to Danny but Danny threw the ball to the first base where Leticia Alvarez caught the ball and tagged out the kid who had hit the ball. "DANNY! YEAH!" Eladora whistled and cheered her brother on.

So did Mona, Dreamer and Celocita as well as Tricky, El Bruto and El Tamal. Shyboy, being Shyboy was reserved and simply grinned. As the last inning began, the opposing team's pitcher, a tall Korean American sixth grader began to pitch. The kid at bat swung a strike at the fast ball. "I don't like this fool..." Remarked Mona. "I swear it's like this fool is a middle schooler, eh! Look at him! He's got a mustache!" The cholos from La Corona heckled the other team in Spanish. Just then, Dreamer noticed, "Shit!" She beckoned to a hovering gold Voodoo slowly rolling by and two tattooed bald Chicano males were inside mad dogging the gangsters from Corona. "They're looking to start some pedo at a game? That's fucked up, eh..." Mona said noticing too.

Dreamer growled, "Those Fresa pendejos better not think of starting any pedo while my hermanito's out there...fuck that, homegirl..." She said digging into her black bra fishing out a magazine and an otherwise empty .25 caliber Hangun. Eladora's eyes widened and her eyebrows raised. "You brought a cuete to mi herman's game? The fuck, Dreamer?"

"Hey, I'm not coming here naked, fool! Not when these Fresa bitches are cruising around acting all sketchy."

"Yeah but la juras, esa!" The Salvadoran teenager warned. "They're here. Plain clothed. They're just waiting for shit to jump off so they can put bracelets on all of us..."

Shyboy sighed. "She's right..." The normally quiet cholo said. "See that pocho motherfucker right there?" He said beckoning with a nod towards a tall Chicano officer with light brown skin, a black buzz cut and a somewhat oveweiht rame wearing glasses, a gray blazer and black jeans. "That's Detective Castillo. He must be expectin trouble too."

Eladora asked, "¿De nosotros o de esos chingados de fresa?"

(From us or those fuckers from Strawberry?)

"Cualquiera de los dos. No sé qué me pone más nervioso. Chavalas están aquí o los cerdos," Replied Celocita.

(Either one. I don't know what makes me more nervous. Chavalas being here or the pigs.)

Tricky threw his crutches down. "What's up, ese?!" He growled at the cars and he did not brandish a weapon he just threw his arms up. "You wanna start some desmadre, putos?!" Shyboy lifted his shirt up just enough to show his pistol as did El Bruto. The car sped off. "Fuck you!" Yelled the driver taking off. "Fresa por vida!"

"Strawberries are putas only good for pulling a train!" Tricky growled. Dreamer and Mona threw up a VC at the fleeing gang members. Eladora, seeing the danger had passed, headed back to the bleachers. They had managed to get two people on base. The catcher was on second and the right fielder was on first. With the crack of a bat they started to make their run to the next base but the ball landed in the glove of the left fielder who threw hard to try and get the kid on second out. Luckily, he made it back but it was two outs. Now Danny was up to bat. The officer approached Eladora. "What the fuck is wrong with you you little bitch? You can't even keep it together at your hermano's baseball games?"

"Maybe if somebody did their jobs those Strawberry fuckers wouldn't be here..." The officer punched her in he stomach. He did it in a subtle manner but it was enough to wind her. He sat her down. "Easy there!" He said asother took notice of her stumbling. "Don't hurt yourself..."

He then gritted his teeth growling in her ear. "Listen to me you little fuckin Cerota. It's bad enough I gotta deal with those Marabunta primos of yours...I grew up in this neighborhood. I was a kid when Varrio Corona was born. They were punks then and they're punks now. You Salvadorans...you think you're hot shit cause some of the vatos let you in the clique but you're nothing but putas. Puro basura you hear me? I knew the guys in this varrio back when it was just Mexicans here. They were punks sure but they fought with fists. Not sniffing paint and doing drive by's like you. Oh yeah. Wasn't your dad one of those revolutionary pieces of shit? For all you know, your papi was Marabunta, chica..."

Tricky, Dreamer, Celocita, Shyboy, and El Bruto surrounded the cop. "Cuadate, puerco..." Stated Tricky. "You wouldn't want to get fired for misconduct would you? Tu saes...Eladora's a minor. You can't question her without a legal guardian."

"Yeah? Would that be you, 'ese'? God knows you got enough bastardos running around. Shouldn't you be in an orphanage since your parents got deported?" He asked hiseyes narrowing at Eladora.

"At least the mothers of my kids are Raza, pocho...and Eladora's custody status and her parents immigration status is none of your business. You're off duty, chorizo."

"Hey if you fuckin cholos wanna do something, you should know I got three buddies here at the game with me. You know you're a disgrace. See I'm an American of Mexican descent. You? You're just a spic thug. You give all Latinos a bad name. Killing your own people. Running with Cerotes..."

"Says the pig who runs with gavachos. It's ok when you pigs shoot a vato though, right? Cause you did it for 'law and order' like you aint a gang yourselves."

"You go ahead and try and touch me, kid..." Stated the cop trying to show no fear.

"You're the one that assaulted a minor, culero..." Stated Tricky. "And yeah sure maybe your cop butt buddies draw their iron and they get us. Think they can do it before we bust your skull open like a watermelon?"

The cop stood up. "This isn't over..." He started to walk away but then said, "You should be a better role model to your brother. He's only half Salvadoran. Maybe he can go more with his good half. You didn't but he can..." He turned to Dreamer. "And you...your brother, all these kids here. You're putting them at risk just being here. If it wasn't for me those guys would have shot the game up."

"Unlike you we actually got familia here, pendejo..." Dreamer growled. "You aint from Corona, bitch. Run along back to Morningwood where you belong with the rest of the white boys..." She said giving the Chicano officer the evil eye. Meanwhile, Danny got his second strike. Eladora called out to Danny. "Danny! Que esta mal?!"

(Danny, what's wrong?)

He came to the fence. "Solo desearía que mamá y papá estuvieran aquí. Me alegra que estés aquí, pero sin ellos nuestra familia no está junta ..."

Eladora sighed. "Estarán aquí pronto. Estarían aquí ahora si pudieran. Si no recibes un golpe, está bien. Siempre hay la próxima vez. Aun así deberías intentarlo. Quieres jugar lo mejor posible cuando están aquí para verlo, ¿verdad?"

(They'll be here soon. They'd be here now if they could. If you don't get a hit, it's okay. There's always next time. You should still try though. You want to play your best when they're here to see it, right? )

He nodded silently and went up to the plate. "Danny! Solo finja que están mirando ahora. ¡Prepárate para cuando serán de verdad!" She knew that her father would be proud that he was athletic and his mother while more knowledgable about Soocer than baseball as all the males she had grown up with were, she would be glad that Danny had joined a sports team just for the sake of learning team work through a positive way rather than joining a gang and learning team work in the wrong way.

Eladora knew they would not be thrilled in the slightest that she had joined Varrio Corona Trece. But what options did she have? She didn't want to go into the foster system and she sure as hell didn't want to let Danny end up there either. They threw the ball and he hit a foul ball. Then they did it again and he waited and another happened. She yelled, "Mirate..." She beckoned to him.

(Just pretend they're watching now. Get ready for when they will be for real! )

"Mis ojos son nuestros padres. Mi ojo izquierdo es papá y mi ojo derecho es mamá. Los tres estamos mirando. Yo soy sus ojos para verte. ¿Entender?"

(My eyes are our parents. My left eye is papa and my right eye is mama. All three of us are watching. I am their eyes to see you. Understand?)

He looked back at the pitcher after shooting a smile to her. He gripped the bat, determined. He was also unusual in that he was a soith paw. The Asian American pitcher tossed the ball, a fast ball and Danny swung with all his might. It did no go out of the field but it went far enough that the outfielders had to run like the wind and the boys already on base began rounding the bases. "Go, Danny! Vamos!" He sped past second base making his way to third. The left fielder threw it in just as he passed third. The right fielder got the ball about four seconds after Danny had already got past the third base and was already headed home. The third basemen chased him and the catcher yelled, "Come on, I got him toss it here!" The third basemen ignored this until Danny was nearly past even him and he handed it off. He tried to tag Danny out but he slid on to the base.

"SAFE!' The umpire called out and the bleachers erupted into cheers and Eladora was the loudest. They had won the game. They celebrated after, her and Danny each getting a Hepsi Cola from the concession stand, iced of course. The sweaty Central American kid grinned. "My first homerun!"

"Yeah...mom and dad would be proud..."she said putting an arm around him. "Do you think we got a chance at winning? Coming first place I mean."

"Yeah! If you work hard, you can do anything you want, hermanito. I believe in you and I got your back. If you want to go to college, even. Just tell me and I swear I'll make it happen."

"Gracias, hermana. But that's years away right? I'm not even in middle school yet. You're in High School. What's it like there?"

She sighed. It was honestly no picnic. There was gang fights there all the time. This was the case at Corona High School and it would be the case at Corona Middle School where Danny was to go in the fall. On one hand, she thought it might be easier because he was a boy. On the other, maybe not. After all, because males were percieved as threats especially by other males who might be from a rival gang, they would likely try to flex. She wished she could somehow get Danny to a school in the suburbs or at least a Catholic school around the area. The only problem was as far as she knew, the only Catholic school she could realistically send him to was in Strawberry. In the heart of enemy territory. The kids there might not bang, they were just high achieving kids in the barrio but the fools around the neighborhood that lived there but didn't go there would be a problem. She had a few months to figure it out.

"It's good when I'm there. When you go there, you gotta hang with the nerds, all right? Or even athletes but be careful. People like me, like Tricky, you gotta stay away from people like that, all right?"

"Why, Eladora? I like Tricky."

"Why?" She asked him. "Cause he's cool!"

"Yeah, well Mr. Cool wouldn't want to see you gettin in trouble either."

She told him, "Hey, can you say goodbye to your friends? We'll get ready to head home in a second. I just gotta use the bathroom."

He nodded. She headed towards the boys bathroom because she suspected something was going on. Sure enough she heard the sound of a spray can. Initially, she wondered if El Bruto was tagging up the bathroom stall but in relity, he was huffing paint. "Bruto, que chingado?!" She demanded."Are you fuckin serious, ese? You gotta do that shit here?" He wiped yellow paint from his face. "I fucked up..." He said in tears, a thing he had never shown any of the females in the hood, even ones he slept with.

"What are you talking about?"

"That vato...the one whose house I torched...when I was coming up...that hit you said to Danny...? I was just a chavalito too. Back in the late 80's...but I remember him. He tried to look out for me like a little homie too but he never tried to recruit me...he said I shouldn't bang. I should go to college and maybe I could be El Presidente some day...you and Mona and Tricky killed him...and I get it. He did our varrio dirty in the past. But I used to look up to him...I didn't see him as a chavala back then...he was just a big homie from a neighborhood...two warring cliquas fighting for the same street...it doesn't even matter that all you killed him...I still might as well have done it too. He had his old lady with him...what if they'd had a kid? Fuck..."

She hugged him and took the can from him. "Come on you fuckin boboso...let's get you cleaned up and back to the block before anybody sees you that's not from our neighborhood...the Aztecas...they had it coming. You know they had RPG's that day that Tricky was talking about? Even if it was settling old business you know that shit was fucked up."

"Hey...the homeboy had a flamethrower. Crazy shit..."

"That's nothing to an RPG, homes. I aint even in the Army and I know that shit. Mi papa...he's been there done all that..."

She handed him off to Shyboy. "Hey...Encabronada..." The high cholo stated. "Your jefito is cool...he had his civil war...now we got ours...everybody's got something they gotta fight for..."

Las Venturas

Fox In A Hun House Part 2

She was anything but ready to make their move against the Huns but it seemed that this was the only option and she wanted her goddamn jewelry back. She was not a career criminal and really she had never done much more than petty shit. She'd been locked up for fist fights, a few times for public intoxication back on the rez and she had broken into a few houses in Las Venturas but she was by no means a killer. The same could not be said for Jose or Waha'yaoo Taba.

She had not killed anybody before but she knew that some day she would have to kill the man who had violated her. If need be, she would have to kill the people here.

it was tough to infiltrate a hostile area filled with the smell of motor oil and testesterone. Unless you were an attractive woman, which Imala was and so was Lana and Raven. The gender advanage, however, ended at the door. It was tough to do recon when everybody wanted to talk to you. A white male with jet black jair and a long black beard connected to a mustache with a pointy nose brown eyes and big ears approached Imala. "Never seen you in here before."

"Well I aint ever been in here before. I just heard the Huns were the hardest crew around."

"Yeah you heard right...I'm Earl..." He said.

"It's nice to have a friend, Earl."

Earl then said, "Can I buy you a drink?" She nodded.

Meanwhile a blonde haired blue eyed biker with spiky hair smelling of Redwoods approached Lana. "So do you like to ride? Where you from, anyway?"

"Born in Venturas. But if you want to know my heritage, Japanese," The Asian American lied. "Ahhh...the land of the crotch rocket bikes..." The biker said with a frown. "What can I say? I like to go fast."

"I can dig it, hon. but sometimes going slow and hard is better than going fast. And nothing like a big American bike."

Raven had been asked a similar question by a white guy with red hair, a crew cut and a thick beard and glasses. He was from Western Canada originally and his accent showed it. "So you been riding before? Ever ridden a Zombie yourself?"

"My dad..he had a 1948 Western. A Crazy Horse."

"Oh man I always wanted to try one of those. hey you know...you're Indian right? My ex wife is Ho Chunk."

Raven smiled but in her head, as Imala saw, she was thinking _Great another Indian lover white boy with a fetish. Go after one of your beach bunnies. It aint happening with me._

Imala made her way up the stairs past the door and made it to the top floor that was off limits to groupies. Earl came back with two beers to see she had gone. he didn't know where she had gone but he took a wild guess. He went past the same door she had to see her picking the lock with a bobby pin. "What the hell are you doing?!" He demanded making his way upstairs and she got the door open. She tried to shut it but the stronger male managed to push through. To ease his defensive posture she put her hands on his chest. "What are you doing?" He asked. "i just was trying to find us a place where we could be alone..." She cooed.

"You can't be up here..." He warned. "I was just trying to find us some place private..."

"All right..." He said expecting to get laid. "Want to see what I brought for us to play with?" She asked. "Yeah..."

She tazed him zapping him in the chest and he cried out falling over. She put the heavy six foot four male against the door to block it off. She began to search for the safe and she fpund it and began to use the lockpick. She got it open within a minute and saw a large chunk of money inside. She wanted to grab it but she knew it was too much to carry. There had to be at least 50 grand inside. it aroused her suspiscions that they had in fact been at least one of the people to rip the casino off. At least this way she would have something to tell Jian. The silent alarm had gone off and she knew she would have company soon. She saw some tools on the table and began to unhook the ventilation shaft. "Earl, you in there?!" Cried a male voice. "Earl!"

She dove through the ventilation shaft and luckily, because Imala had a small enough frame, she was able to get out without the bigger boned biker being able to follow. Still, the shaved headed Caucasian fired his Glock 19 out through the shaft after Imala had landed outside near the back by some dumpsters. She ran as the bullets bounced off the dumpsters. She returned fire with her own Handgun.

She fired missing three shots as she fired over her head just as he had missed shots that hit the dumpsters sparking along with the muzzle flashes, she saw the same impact as it hit the shaft. She hit him with the next two rounds, however, the first hitting him in the aorta and he staggered holding his bloody wound and another slug tore through the right hand. The round also went into his chest and he collapsed and though Imala had seen she had hit him, she hadn't seen exactly where the round hit him just that it had hit his chest.

She thought to herself, _Jesus...this is the second time I've shot somebody! Did I kill him? Did i kill those men I shot at Four Dragons?_

Imala knew the first time killing somebody was like your first time having sex. It was always a big deal. Of course, in the latter case her first time had been against her will and while the next time she'd had sex was with a man from her rez and it had been voluntary and she had wished that was her first time and she even counted it as her first time mostly to herself, she knew that wasn't really true. Likewise, with killing, or at least having shot people, it was no small thing taking a human life and yet both times she had shot somebody, she as not sure she actually had or if it had just been a wound.

And while she had gotten sick the night of the robbery, she still hadn't known for sure if she had killed somebody. She felt she had but she couldn't be sure. Then she remembered that they had found a dead body. Jian had said there was a body matching the wounds of the man she shot. _I'm a killer..._

She hadn't let it sink in during the time between when Jian had told her and now but now it was for sure she realized, that she had killed at least one man. And if this biker died did this make it two? Would the Huns MC figure it out and be out for blood and attack the rez? These thoughts raced through her mind as she sprinted to the front.

Inside, Dawn was getting increasingly annoyed by the biker she was talking to. He had shown her a picture. The woman was of light brown complexion and had a pleasant enough smile and was a journalist that worked out of Algonquin. Their kids however, as the woman was a mixed blood having partial European ancestry, the children looked more like their father.

"Yeah, I used to think that Indians just get free money but my wife she explained to me that it's just interest on a land deal. My own family thinks they get everything free and that kind of inffluenced how I thought but I can' be too hard on Indian I helped make a bunch of Indian kids. You know I think being with her long enough has given me the ability to tell who is and who isn't Indian. If you don't have the Asian looking eyes and you aint at least 25% you aint a real Indian. And ya know what else i noticed? From Alaska all the way to down here all Indians have the same accent. Sounding like a cop from Winnipek that just pulled me over for being drunk, eh? But I can't go too hard on my in laws.I don't want my wife's family mad at me. So my Indian name should be He Who Treads Lightly."

"They should call you Whistling Cheeks, brother! Especially when you eat onions!" Heckled a biker at the bar.

Dawn faked a laugh. Then she scowled. Just then the gunshots alerted both her and Lana and every biker and groupie at the bar. "Well...that's our cue..." Lana said before driving her knee into the balls of the biker talking to her and she grabbed a pool stick and smacked another running out of the door. Dawn took the pitcher of beer and smashed the Canadian biker in the face shattering it all over his face.

"I don't know why your wife of ex wife has such bad taste in men...but I aint a bed wench like her. You aren't an authority on who is and aint Indian. And you aint shit. Why don't you have a drink..." She poured beer from her bottle into his open bloody wounds and his eyes which also were bleeding due to the glass from the pitcher and his own glasses. "You won't be riding any Indian women or motorcycles any time soon, asshole!" He screamed on the ground as he bled. He cursed at her. "Fuckin redskin bitch! When I find out where you're from!" She kicked him in the balls as hard as she could. "You'll do fuckin nothing..." She hissed. "I've been around crackers like you that insulted Natives while still wanting to fuck us all our lives. When your wife or ex wife or whatever sees you, I'd love to see you explain to her how you got these cuts."

The clubhouse door burst open and Dawn and Lana burst out. A woman who was an Old Lady with curly blonde hair and E cup breasts and wild brown eyes tried to charge at the two with three of her female friends behind and angry bikers brandishing pistols close behind as well as knives. Lana, not confident about her ability to take her on, as she was closing in, did the only thing she could think of. She hit her in the face with the pool cue as hard as she could whacking her across the face. She then swung it at another female biker who dodged and she smacked the stick against a Freeway breaking it in half. The biker with the bloody nose and large breasts grabbed Lana by the throat pulling out a .45 automatic.

Lana kicked her in the stomach and she jammed the broken pointy half of the pool stick into the woman's throat. "MACY!" Roared one of the patched club members. Imala pulled the car around with the driver door open and the back left side door open. They both ran but as she hit the brakes to stop, the back door shut and Lana got to the car first jumping into the passenger seat. Dawn on the other hand, though not as fast a runner as Lana, was still a survivor. She grabbed the door frame and jumped through the window with almost ninja like grace as a bullet just barely missed her head but did get a piece of her black hair.

Seven rounds hit the car, two hit the passenger seat Lana was in without actually hitting her, a third hit the odometer, the fourth went through the front windshield, the fifth hit the rear view mirror, the sixth hit the car stereo and the seventh grazed Imala on the right arm. The round didn't go inside her but it was enough to give her a scare as the biker who had shot that round stood in front of the car trying to hit Imala with a head shot. She hit him before he could get away which she was ducked down but she felt the impact as the big biker was hit. he crunched the windshield and she also heard his ribs break. he coughed up blood on the windshield. Imala panicked a bit as she swerved and yelled, "AHhHH! Fuck you!" She turned on the windshield wipers. "Goddamn it...! It aint raining, bitch!"

She yelled back, "You're getting blood and there's a dead bug on the windshield!" She was implying he was the bug. She told Lana, "Take the wheel!" A shotgun went off and the back windshield cracked and Dawn ducked down. She returned fire with her Beretta out the window but the biker fired again. She ducked before the second blast hit but glass shards rained on the Paiute woman's shoulders. She fired hitting the biker with six shots as she blindly fired thirteen shots. Two hit him in the abdomen, one in the chest, one in the left arm, one in the right knee one in the right thigh. There was no certainty that this had killed him right then and there but there was a high probability the biker would not survive. It was simple mathematics and after losing so much blood, there just wasn't much one could do.

"You don't know who you're fucking with!" Screamed a biker as he ran up taking his fallen friend's shotgun and pumped and fired. "We;'ll kill all you prick teases!"

"You fucked with us first, taivo! Fuck you!" Yelled Dawn. Meanwhile, Imala told Lana, "I need you to take the wheel!" She did as she asked and Imala began violently kicking the windshield until it wrapped around the wounded biker and she gave his sides one last hard kick and he rolled off the hood of the car bouncing off the road and she heard another crunch indicating he probably broke more bones. "Motherfucker!" Screamed Dawn. "Did we even get what we were there for?!"

"They had 50 k in their safe!"

"Are you serious?! Why didn't you take it?! We could have used that money to help people back where we come from!" Imala told her, "There was no time and right now, they know what we look like. We know now they probably robbed it and they're stashing their cut there. If there's other patched members of the Huns they probably have it at other club houses. We have to act fast..." Imala said feeling out of breath. "Make sure Jian knows they're in on it and leave the rest up to him and the Mountain Cloud Boys. We don't want to get any deeper in than we are..."

"My God...Imala...I fuckin killed a woman back there!" Lana was in tears and shaking. "You did what you had to..." Imala said in a shaky breath. She felt sick. Now he knew the shock, the trauma of having taken one life possibly two or three more was setting in. "The cops...fuck...we gotta get rid of this car...Lana...you better lay low on the rez with us. Get outta Venturas for at least 48 hours. Jian said we'd have sick pay. I'll find a pay phone and call him. Tell him what he needs to know. Or set up a meeting place..."

"It's not that big a deal, Lana..." Dawn said putting a hand on the Asian girl's shoulder. "This isn't my first time killing somebody...it gets easier...besides, I wish i'd have killed that Taivo pig that was hitting on me, enit? Real Indian lover that one. Got an ex...or maybe even a current wife and all that...maybe she is ex but I dunno since she lives in Algonquin. Which is weird. I thought they were a tribe from freaking Wisconsin. What is she doing all the way that far east?"

"We can go wherever we want in our own land, Dawn. You know that. Besides Liberty City's awesome."

"How would you know? You never been east of New Mexico."

"I know but it has to be right? It wouldn't have that many people if people didn't want to live out there."

"Yah, maye just to visit but they can keep their expensive rent. I'd rather stay in Venturas where it's cheap. Besides, it's home. Liberty City is for Skyscraper Indians."

"They're called Kanienehaka, Dawn. And Algonquins they worked on em too."

"Nah. They're skyscraper Indians to me. Crazy. i get scared from forty floors. Fuck going up a hundred."

"Yeah but weren't the Pueblo Adobes pretty high though?" Asked Lana who looked pale and scared but was trying to talk about anything other than what they had done. "Yeah but we aint Pueblo. They're kinda related but not really. We're like their cousins ya know?" Dawn stated. "God, I wish I would have shot that Canadian douche bag instead of the guy with the shotgun. At least he went ot like a warrior..." Stated Dawn having a strange reverence for a brave enemy.

"Yeah, I wasn't too thrilled about the yellow fever fetishization either. I swear it's like they objectify Asian women the same way as Indian...I mean Native American women. Isn't it? They do it to black girls too but not as much as you or me."

"Hey, look we're friends, Lana but we're not exactly the same. Yeah, maybe they fetishize us to a degree in the same way but most of you don't gotta live in anything close to a rez."

"Hey...that's not fair. I respect yor culture don't overgeneralize us with the high achieving bullshit. South East Asians have the highest drop out rate in the country. By the way you said Taivo? isn't that a Comanche word? That kind of sounds almost like our word for whites too. Taivo and Gweilo."

"Hey! Watch it! Look, I like learning about Chinese culture but I aint gonna let anybody say we're the same. The Taivos...the Spanish missionaries...you know that's who started that Bering Strait bullshit. I don't ever hear Asians in Asia claiming us as long lost relations cause we're not. If we were ever one people and that's IF we were on people, we're as far apart now as Aborigines in Australia are from Africans. The skin color and eyes don't mean shit."

Lana lowered her head but Imala said, "To answer your question...kind of close but they say it with a b instead of v..." Imala stated. "And the Shoshones... the people they descend from do too. So that's more closely related to us than the Pueblos," She then smiled and said, "I know you didn't mean anything by it. Besides, being around you plus Jian I finally figured out the context of it. Gweilo's a funny word. "Funny how?" Asked Lana. "No, not in a disrespectful way to the language I mean what it means is funny what it calls them."

Lana then shared a laugh when she realized what she meant.

Imala as they drove to the Southern Paiute rez past Redsands East then had a question. "Hey. I get why you said you were Japanese to throw that one biker off that was smart. But you're Eurasian. Chinese and white. So why do I sometimes hear you say you're a hapa? Isn't that a Japanese word? And don't the Japanese and Chinese kind of hate each other? No offense."

"None taken. And we don't ALL hate each other though. Yeah we fought in the past but who hasn't? There's still Japanese and Chinese marriages. I'd go for Chinese, Japanese or Korean. I'd also go for Paiutes.." She got a look from Imala and Dawn, "If I was able to do it without you two kicking my ass..."

This got a laugh from the three of them. "Okay but you didn't answer about the hapa..."

"I don't know..." Chuckled Lana. "Honestly? Different languages are just so different but Japanese kind of almost sounds like half with hapa and I guess Koreans and Vietnamese and Chinese we alll like it enough to adopt it."

As they drove, Imala put the radio on Radio X and the song Divine Intervention by Slayer played. She would normally blast it but after what they had just been through she kept it at a moderate volume. "imala...what if Jian doesn't do a good enough job at dealing with the Huns? I'm scared for my family. Even just what we did to those skanks before that was one thing but...Jesus...i took out one of their women this time...they could go after my family...all this over a robbery? How do we know that 50 K isn't from other club activities?"

"Look, we've known criminals on the rez too..." Stated Dawn. "And it may not be the same as Triads or bikers but the law is the same anywhere and if the cops get a warrant and they find all that money they're screwed. I wouldn't doubt it if

West Side Hoo Ride

JD spotted his class mate, a Caucasian male with shaggy light brown hair and brown eyes. The young man was about 22 years old and he had a T shirt advertising Rage Against The Machines. He had a goatee. "Hey, JD! What's up dude? Where you headed?" His name was Zeke.

The African American college student replied, "Home."

"But the dorm room is the other direction."

"Nah, I mean my home neighborhood. South Central."

"You...actually want to go back there?" JD sighed. "Look you're cool and all and it is good to have a study partner when we both need it but we come from two different worlds. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Vespucci Canals. Why do you ask?"

"See that's what I mean. You probably grew up near the beach, right? Most cats I know from my hood, have never been to a beach in their life. Some can't even swim."

"That sucks, bro. They should come out to West LS! Id teach em to swim."

"Man, that might work for some of the brothers around here but shit you seen sisters on campus. Aint nobody getting their hair wet. If you don't know that now, I'll be the first to tell you."

"Would you belThey always do this to our we're gangsters or not. What did you tell them?ieve me if I told you there's a shit load of blonde beach bunnies that just lay there on the beach and don't get in the water for the same thing? They say they want to work on their tan but they don't get in the water. Even though wet skin accelerates it faster than dry skin."

"You know what? I think I do believe you on that one..." JD said with a chuckle. "But that still doesn't mean you can understand where I'm coming from. Look, South Central? Yeah it's rough. But it's never gonna get any better if somebody does't stick around and put their money back into the community. We need libraries, more hospitals, more schools. Not more liqour stores and gun stores."

"I can dig it, man. Vespucci Beach has some rougher parts. I don't feel safe going up Magellan Ave, man. They called me a gringo and told me to leave or I was dead."

"If it's any consulation, they'd have probably told me the same shit..."

"Yeah but then when I wasn't being stared down by cholos...I saw this food vendor. He called me a peachy merry cone. Or maybe he was just trying to sell it to me. But then all I smelled was meats coming off that food wagon. I was confused, dude. Is that like a treat out there? Sounds great."

"No I think he said...ah nevermind...i don't know what he said either..." JD lied.

"But you can't really compare Vespucci to South Central though, man. We don't got any beaches where I come from. Or swimming pools. We got fire hydrants. Just like how they do in North Holland it's like that here."

"I can dig it, man. Anything to stay coo. Hey, you want to get something to eat, dude? My treat."

JD was reluctant but he didn't want to be rude. He knew that if he was ever going to get out of the trappings of the hood or at least be the best gangbanger he could be with all the success he could potentially have it was important to network outside his comfort zone. "Aight. That's cool."

"You like Burger Shot?"

"Does the pope shit in the woods?" Before long, they got into a gold Buffalo. "Shit is this yours? That's a nice ride, man."

"Nah. It's my cousin Vera's, bro. She lets me use it cause she's like super loaded. She did better in school than i did and she's got her own fuckin law firm. It's kind of a bummer, man. She was always the parents favorite. They always said I'd probably you know...end up flipping burgers or in jail."

He was rolling up a joint as he drove. "You smoke, JD?" JD was nervous to be consuming any illegal substance in a West Los Santos neighborhood like this. Not only would the cops fuck with him all the more, he would surely be kicked out of the University Of Los Santos."

"Man didn't you hear what I said earlier, fool? You might get a slap on the wrist. Maybe academic suspension. They'll tell me to hit the highway if they don't throw me in county. Which they would."

"Dude I've been arrested for posession like...four times. I did eighteen months for it. I'll probably get like three to five years if it happens again."

"You don't think you might have mentioned that before I got in the car with ya ass? That's really inconsiderate."

"Dude, don't worry about it. Chill amigo. I drive stoned all the time. I've never been pulled over once. And you didn't answer my question. Do you smoke?"

JD, on edge that he would be caught as the guy lit up stated, "Yeah. Once. My moms caught me though. It was in my room. No lock on the door."

"Yeah man...you're stupid for that. You should have blazed outside...like at a park or just outside a high school."

"Are you for real? Is that what people really do in your neighborhood?" Zeke nodded.

They pulled into the Burger Shot in Vinewood. JD personally preferred to eat in at these places to get free refills of soda and at the same time he often had taken home napikins and ketchup. Sometimes he wondered if he was the reason why people acted like their careers were on the line when you asked for extra sauce too since he often got honey mustard too. "You can get whatever you want, man. i'm buying and I got the fuckin munchies really bad."

The college student ordered a fish sandwich and fries with a large Bukkake Root Beer. He also ordered chicken nuggets. JD ordered a bacon cheeseburger with just the burger bacon, cheese and BBQ sauce plus fries, a large E Cola and nuggets same as him. Their food cam before long. "So like...how's your other classes. man?" Asked Zeke.

"Man...dude...I'm telling you...I've had some bad teachers in school all throughout every grade..."He said before taking a bite of the burger. "But Mrs. Campbell? This bitch has gotta be the worst goddamn math teacher i ever had. i swear to God."

"Yeah dude...I had her before. She doesn't even fuckin care...she doesn't care if you learn it or not she just breezes right on through. It doesn't matter if I come to class stoned or uh...not stoned...I forget what the word is for that but...like dude...I fuckin tried. And it's not just me. You know that guy Jose? Dude from North Vinewood?"

"Yeah, i think so..." JD said dipping a few fries in ketchup. "The cat with the longer hair always wearing the beanie, and the glasses, right? Early 30's?"

"Yeah...he's not even sure if he wants to keep that class or drop it. Even if it means he'll be short on credits."

"Come to think of it, man what was your GPA last time you checked? I'm surprised they didn't give you the boot. I'm just saying. You're not even a frat boy and you party harder than they do."

"Yeah I party with weed..." The slacker college student said. "Strangely enough those losers don't do that, amigo. I swear they do coke though. They asked me for party favors once. i don't sell that shit."

"Yeah and you don't do that shit, either right?"

"Hey I said I didn't sell that shit. And i don't really buy it either. But if somebody wants to give me a courtesy bump who am I to turn it down? I've got manners..."

JD couldn't help but notice the man's arms. He had track marks on them. He didn't say anything about it. It wasn't his business. "I have been on academic suspension though."

"You got a record?" Asked JD. "Yeah. Eighteen months for shoplifting. Stint in rehab too."

Zeke then laughed it off. "Hey I'm not lazy, bro. Lots of people stay in college for several years, dude. Some for eight years..."

JD chuckled shaking his head. "Yeah, they're called doctors, Zeke. Or lawyers. Which one were you again?"

"I was trying to be a pharmacist..."

JD laughed. "Shit..." He said softly. "I can't say I'm surprised but then I am a little bit..."

"Well, fuck, dude...I'm a believer in medicine. I believe in curing the world..."

Zeke having spoken a little louder had caused the irritation of a family of four a Caucasian male with curly brown hair and brown eyes in a white polo shirt and black cargo pants and a suburban blonde woman with a bob cut wearing a green turtleneck sweater with a son that looked like her and a daughter that looked like him. "Excuse me..." The man said, "Do you mind watching your mouth? There's kids here..."

"I don't give a fuck..." Zeke said. 'They're not my kids. I always pull out."

"Hey!" The mother stated. "What's wrong with you?"

"Z, just cool out..." JD stated. The woman turned to him. "Why don't you get your friend out of here?"

"He's not my respsonsibility..." JD said. "i can tell him what to do but he does what he feels like doing. If cussing offends you maybe you should move to another table."

"We shouldn't have to!" The blonde stated. "This is a family friendly establishment!"

"That's your problem. You're part of the establishment!" Stated Zeke. "You're like those big corporations telling everybody what to do! Well in theh words of Zach De La Rocha FUCK YOU I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!" JD pulled on his arm. "Come on, man chill out."

"There's a six and a seven year old, you moron! There's other kids."

"Your problem, amigo not mine!" Insisted Zeke. "Look you seem like a nice kid..." Stated the father leaning in towards JD. He whispered, "Can you PLEASE get this asshole outta here?" Zeke heard it.

JD said something to the father. "Look, I get what you're saying but you ever notice how guys like you who say think of the children are never offended yourselves personally? You always want to try and speak on behalf of somebody else like kids. But there's bigger problems in the world than somebody cussing."

The man looked like he was going to say something back but he was interupted by Zeke. "ASSHOLE! He said asshole! The speech police said asshole!" Zeke hopped up on the table taking a messy bite of fish. "THIS is an asshole!" He said dropping his pants and mooning everybody. This earned gasps of shock from some and anger from others. Other patrons just laughed. He spread his ass cheeks.

A cholo from Vespucci Beach, a man who had XIII tatted on his neck with his girlfriend a pretty curly haired woman were eating and watching this. "Wow, baby..." She said with an amused chuckle. "Dinner and a show..."

"I WANT JUSTICE!" Cried Zeke. He ran up to the mothers and the father's food trays stealing fries off their tray. "Corporate taxation you fuckin asshole!" He took a bite out of the fries. Just then two officers, both from the Vespucci Sheriff's Department came in one had sandy blonde hair in an 80's style mullet and stood 5'8 and had violet eyes, in his late 20's the other was also caucasian but paler than his friend with brown hair and brown eyes and a thin musctache standing at six feet in his late 20's. They pulled Zeke off the table. "GET oF ME PIGS! I GOT A CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT TO FAST FOOD! I'M AN AMERICAN!"

They ordered JD not to move before cuffing Zeke and then deanding JD show his ID. He slowly did. "I'm reaching for my wallet...I aint making no sudden moves..." He got out his state ID drivers liscense and college student ID. "Says here you go to the Univerisity Of Los Santos. Weren't you that guy got shot in South Central?"

JD sighed. "Yeah man that was me but I wasn't doing anything wrong then and I aint now."

"But you got to the University of Los Santos?" The taller cop asked. "Yeah, man, I just said that. I aint got any control over him wiling out like that, officer. He does that on his own."

"What are you majoring in?" Asked the other officer. "Business...""

"Nice...should be able to get you a nice place a long way from 52nd in that case. Don't you think it's a little well...nicer here?" Asked the shorter cop.

"I don't know that I could afford rent out here. But my family always wanted me to go to college in a place like this. I don't know where I'll be this time next year. I just am trying my best..."

"Well your family seem to want what's best for you. And it is good to get to know different people but..." The taller cop slammed Zeke's head on the hood of the car. "THIS asshole is a lowlife piece of shit. Just another spoiled trust fund kid drugged outta his mind."

He punched Zeke in the kidney. JD's eyes widened. All his life living in South Central, he had been lead to believe cops would not brutalize white kids. Even though JD had been assaulted by officers as a teenager in the past several years ago he had managed to mstly stay outof trouble. The sandy blonde haired officer stated, "You know...they say we were bad...in the time leading up to the riots."

JD's heart pounded thinking they were going to turn on him next. "I just want you to know we're proggresive now. We might arrest guys from your neighborhood. But we'll also fuck up this bleached surfer asshole..." The officer slammed his head again into the car door. Zeke cried out, "This is fucked up! I want a lawyer!" The officer kicked him in the ribs. "Whoa, man is that nessecary?!" JD cried out. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" The taller officer warned. "Matter of fact sit down..."

He did as he was told. He ran back to the car to run his information. "Officer...what about my friend?"

"If he's your friend, I'd have to wonder about your choice of friends. That aint the knd of guy who graduates college. Truth is, I'd like to put a few holes in him too. If it weren't for his daddy, I would. Maybe one day, I will. There's only so many high speed chases you can take us on before we start to get twitchy. This guy's a grade A junkie. You know how many times he's been to rehab?"

JD protested, "But how does beating on him help?" The officer told him, "You'r not under arrest. Just sit there be quiet as a mouse and we'll be done here..." He finally gave him his ID back. "All right, you're good..." The blonde officer kicked Zeke in the ribcages. "Well, college boy...are we proggresive enough yet?" He hit Zeke in the back wit the billy club. "You made your pont yall. What you trying to prove?!"

"You sure...?" Panted the deputy." "I mean a fine law abiding citizen like yourself...he could have got you in serious trouble with us...you sure you don't want to take a swing at him yourself? It doesn't matter..." JD shook his head. "Nah I'm good."

"All right then..." He said shoving the bloodied college student in. "You have yourself a nice day. Oh and by the way...if those Families try and come after you again you just dial 911..." He leaned in and whispered in JD's ear and his heart pumped faster. "We're the biggest gang in town. Do you understand? We always win. It doesn't matter if you're green rag, purple rag, a civie like you...or a coked out piece of shit surfer."

They got into their car and the blonde officer told Zeke, "We're gonna try a nice little social expiment with you, pal. Let's see how your rich ass makes out in the holding tank at county."

"I pay your salary, pig!" Growled Zeke. "That's what I thought you'd say..." Chuckled the taller cop. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna make those jail birds an offer. See how many cigarettes or commisary items they'd pay to turn your asshole into a sperm bank..."

"Fuck..." JD murmored as they took off. "i gotta get the fuck outta here..." He was actually feeling less safe in the West Side of Los Santos than his old neighborhood.

2 Hours Later

He finally got back to the hood. "Hey what's good, Grove you been chefin like a motherfucker, right?" Asked O Loc as he dapped the darker black male. "Nah. Class mate. Blazed in his car. I wasn't trying to get into none of that but I caught a contact high. Anyway, what's good?""

"Shit, partna aint no thing but a chicken wing. Just taking these bitch niggas money."

They were in a dice game. O Loc, Dimebag, and Stick were in it. JD greeted them all. "Yo, ma what up?" Greeted Stick as he smoked a $10 stick. "Man, nigga would you stop blowing that shit in my face, nigga?" Growled Dimebag. "You stink, fool!"

"So's your motherfuckin cologne, cuz. Trying to impress the bitches around here by smelling like one, homie. Yeah I see you, Grove. I know what it is. Don't hate me...cause I'm plugged into another dimension, partna!"

O Loc decided to clown, "Yeah foh real nigga you a space cadet. You with NASA. Negro American Space Association. You could be the first nigga on the moon."

"They already had like three niggas on the moon, motherfucker..." Dimebag sneered. "Damn your ass should have been in schoo. Yo JD. What's the name of the first niggas in space?"

"Guion Bluford homie..." Replied the OGF gang member and ULSA student. "He was the first one and yeah you right. He was on the Challenger so we're about thirteen years too late for that shit."

"Yeah well this nigga right here be the first nigga to get to space without a space suit and spaceship you feel me? The way he get shermed out aint no telling if he ever come down again."

"Hey didn't that fool get blown up any motherfuckin way?" Asked Stick. "Nah that was another one. Ron McNair."

"Hey. What color were Ron McNair's eyes, homie?" Asked Stick. "Brown. "

"Nah. Blue. One blew this one on blew that way..." This got a laugh out of O Loc and JD didn't want to but he stifled a laugh. Dimebag just took off his sunglasses and said, "Man, I worry about your stupid ass, g. I aint never seen a bird fly high enough they didn't have to come down eventually."

"Fuck you, D I'll be high till the day I die and if that's tomorrow that's fine by me long as I'm loaded. Aint that right college boy? You probably beer ponging with them frat boys. Surprised they aint got you in a Letterman."

"Hell naw. I don't get butt naked. I fuck with the chronic and brew but that's it. Fools been getting shermed out since the 70's and they be all fucked up. I aint going out like that."

"Yeah well what is it you college bitches always say?" Sneered Stick as he blew smoke away from the group. "A mind's a terrible thing to waste? Well shit...I'd be wasting my mind by not getting wasted!"

"That aint what that meant."

"Hey it means whatever the fuck i want the shit to mean. Aint that what this country about? Freedom of expression and shit?"

"Damn you stupid..." Dimebag said shaking his head as he rolled the dice. "Make O Loc's young ass look like a genius."

Just then, JD spotted an old friend of his from the neighborhood. Tyree Winston. Tyree was a dark skinned male born to one African American parent and one Senegalese parent. "What's up ya'll?"

"Hey, what's crackin, Ty? When you get back?"

"I still stay around here, homie. I just go to the JC..." Tyree was six feet tall and he wore a black t shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans. He was always wearing a silver chain. "Hey homie...sorry to hear about your girl, man. That shit was fucked up. Look...i been trying to chill out not be about the beef so much no more just do my thing and get my degree and all that but you know...just this one time if you need me I'm always down."

"What? Fuck you talking about?" Demanded Stick. "You aint even roll with us to smash out some sissies but JD get back and suddenly you down to ride? What's up with that?"

"Look J was good people is all i'm saying, homie. She was a civilian. It wasn't right them hitting her like that. That's all the fuck I was saying. And yeah all the fools I fuck with that I rolled with that aint here no more? I got justice for them with my own, playa. I got no more unresolved beefs out here. If you do, that's on you. Handle yours. But on some real shit, don't act like all ya'll aint been smashing up CGF niggas and starting it up with cats out there that don't even know ya'll by name. I swear you be chipping off an OBG nigga and you want to start more shit with their little homies. But I served time up in the deep. "

"Yeah on some real shit, brother, I'd sooner trust a Baller than one of these snot rag niggas. How they gonna put the death of they big homie on us? They talk about we capped them but where's their proof we did that shit? And even if it's true whoever did that been long dead. I bet you anything..." Dimebag said.

"Hey, we was down with the F car back in the day with the three big homies, remember? Grove been an original hood. Only them GSF bitches been down and out cause they can't get with the times. But to just let some Ballas claim that hood as their own?" Stick shook his head. "We need to put the hurt on all them bitches, homie. Fuck Covenant Ave. They need to get hit with the sleepers. Dirt nap. Naw I'm talking about?"

"Fool, Orange Grove been around before there was Families. We don't need them and they want it with us so bad I say fuck all them. We EBK in this motherfucker anybody can get it. Ballas, Families, Ese's, Koreans, white boys. Let anybody test us. They'll get shredded."

"Yeah and we get shredded with em. We been cooling it with the Carsons even if w aint really saying we Families anymore it's still Gangster shit, right? G Street. G shit..." JD said. "Yeah...but I can't stand them Carson motherfuckers either..." O Loc said. "They aint as bad as Sissies from Chamberlain but I still would buck on any of them I see. Wear Corkers gear arond me and you get bucked on..."O Loc stated.

Tyree turned to JD. "Hey can i talk to you a minute homie?"

"What's good?" Asked JD as he took a drink off the 40 ouncer. "Why you still fucking with these clown ass nigga, man? The shit that happened to you? It's dudes like that drag you down. I mean them CGF busters were out hunting for anybody from the Grove, homie. How is that fair? You or me get blasted behind something they about?"

"Yeah but you was really about that life. Me, I aint about this hood shit but I still am getting revenge for my girl. I may not be Grooving but I'm going after the guys who did me dirty. And if it means I gotta be down with the G life to protect myself from reprisal then so motherfuckin be it!"

"Reprisal homie see? You using fancy ass words the kind of shit I learn at the junior college. That's proof you dn't belong around here."

"Truth is, I might be getting me a spot on the East Side with O Loc, man. He's staying on the East Side with Stick and i don't think I can afford a place on the West Side. Even with my job on campus and slinging i couldn't afford it out here. But come on, Ty you act like you was never down yourself!"

"Nigga, I was. I'll always be from the Grove. The real Grove. The shit we been beefing with them GSF niiggas on the green side and the Covenant Ave marks but don't you get tired of this shit? I heard what you went and did on the set to the green side. You lit up somebody that didn't even do nothing to you. Youu want to be like O Loc? A trigger happy psycho with no regard for human life? Or like Dimebag? A nigga that been around long enough to do dirt but he still knows what's really up and how this shit is social expirments but still chooses o live ignorant cause it's convinient? Or a shermed out hype like Stick?"

"Man, you need to take your ass on outta here with your buster ass..." Stated Dimebag. "Nigga gonna try and clown on homies from the block getting paper. Tax free paper. I mean JD do his college thing so he could do shit legit but as for you don't be acting like you aint never did shit."

"Yeah you lil punk..." O Lo c cursed. "You used to be down but you're just a mark now."

"Coming from you, lil nigga that means nothing."

Just then, two homies from the 83 Orange Grove neighborhood showed up too. The first was a black male of average complexion. He was always wearing an orange baseball cap for the San Fierro packers. He wore a white t shirt under a blue jacket as well and baggy black jeans. His name was Marvin Washington but homies on the block called him Slab because he was always driving around in nice cars. He had a six trey rag with Gold D's. The second was Clarence "Gauge" Douglass. He was taller and wore a dark blue jacket and blue jeans.

"What's happening, Grove?" He dapped up Dimebag, O Loc, Tyree and JD. "Hey, homie listen I was real sorry to hear about your girl, bro. That wasn't cool at all. You need anything come holler. I got you."

He didn't know him very well he'd only seen him maybe five times in his life but Slab made it a point to keep in touch with all Orange Grove neighborhoods. A couple of females from the hood that were down for the set had been listening too. "The homie JD..." Stated a girl named Dina. Dina was a light skinned black girl who always wore black lipstick.

She was a yella bone so she always got a lot of attention from the fellas. Her younger sister looked about the same as she did but she was a bit shorter standing at 5'4. Though her features were obviously African American she was light skinned enough that her skin was pretty much almost white if one went by shade alone. Though in the summer time her skin was more of a yellowish tint. She had neck length black hair.

Her name was Leila Lawton but was known as La La. "Hey homie, I think it's good you're in school..." La La said giving JD a hug. She smelled good he had to admit. "Aint enough brothas getting educated. Especially from South Central."

JD chuckled. "I don't know, girl. I think I might be losing my edumacation just being around these fools. Why don't you put on a miniskirt and glasses and teach me, baby?" She chuckled. "You stupid."

"You trying to mack on my sister, homie? How we know you aint been all up in them blonde bitches guts though? She right about the education but damn we don't know if you been with some beach bunnies."

"Girl, first off, a lot of niggas up there might have done that but not me all right? Second, you probably got some blonde in your family history, Ms light Bright."

"We do though..." Stated Baby M a light skinned ebony woman with short brown hair and deep brown eyes. "I mean at least got white blood you can tel I aint just black..."

"She think she better than us cause of that..." Chuckled O loc. "Like them Creole bitches outta Little New Arcadia.."

"Why every time you refer to a woman you always say bitch or ho or hoochie or strawberry?" Demanded Baby M. "Cause that's what you are!" O Loc shot back. "Nigga, fuck you!" This earned a laugh from Slab and O Loc as well as Dimebag. "Nah, we do get white in us but they aint blonde though..." Stated Dina. "She was at LEAST a brown haired white girl."

"Nigga how you know it wasn't the master's blood?" Asked Dimebag. "For starters, cause my great grandma was born in 1910, NIGGA!" She replied.

"Anyway I aint seen ya'll in a hot minute how you been?" The homgirls answered, "i been trying to get a job in nursing but it aint easy they want me to have a degree so now I don't know where to start from here..." Admitted Dina. "I been at the community college..." Stated La La. "No scholarship for me."

"Yeah, she's going to school over in Davis..." Baby M said. "I keep telling her she gotta be careful. Davis aint no joke and it aint friendly over there for people from out here."

"Hey. I got some homies from the 165h Nutty Block Families..." Replied Dimebag. "So they'll always let me know if shit is bad in the city so I can warn homegirl stay away but uh...I won't go kick it out there withot calling ahead first.."/

"Okay so see?" Tyree said. "ya'll are getting your education too. Don't be like these old knucklehead Negros..." He said pointing at O Loc. "Nigga, fuck you. Pull our your wallet right now. Let's see who's got more paper."

"That don't mean shit. One times throw your ass inside you won't have shit."

"Yeah but you can't tax this dirty money. Sucka ass nigga."

"Hey s look homie I wanted to holla at you about that thing we were talking about..." Slab stated. "This again?" Dimebag groaned. "Look, ya'll dropped theFamilies from your name and that's cool. Do you. I know it's crazy on the East Side and you get it harder from Families out there but we're just doing us you know? We're ourselves and I still got cousins in Family hoods and if I had to come down to it I'm not tripping like that against the Carsons. It's just these CGF punks I can't stand."

"You might as well! You got just as many Family sets trying you out here. Not just Chamberlain niggas from the 60's hood either. Them 40's niggas. Even those marks out in Cypress Flats. We already rocking different colors than them, we got different slag plus our shit is older than theirs. The fuck I want to be cool with them for? I can't stand Carson's either I did time with some of those pussies and we funked with some Ese's. Inside shit is different. The Ballas from East Side stood tall with us too but you know what Carson's did? They ran like scary ass bitches. Man, fuck that fool Scratch and Cue Ball i don't care how much time they do how much time they done or how hood they think they is on the streets I see them i'm lighting them up."

"Hey, Cue Ball's cool, cuz. He saw the light and even I see it to a point. One of these days homie it aint gonna be so much purple blasting on green and green on purple. It's more gonna be individual sets from each gang beefing and then there's gonna be set tripping within your own. I'm glad we mostly avoided that shit for ourselves I don't set trip with any Grove hoods. But you gotta understand it's different on the West Side, homie. I don't beef with every Famil set. I'm Orange Grove and I'm Families you feel me? Even if every other Orange nigga don't care about that no more for whatever reason I still honor both heritages."

"Naw see you're gonna learn that some day, homie. I mean yeah it's your choice but trust me when I say they don't want us..." Stated Slab.

As they were conversing, a dark red Glendale was pulling up. The song Get At Me by DJ Quik blasted. Three black males leaned out. The first had a 12 gauge which he aimed out the window. He ws a scrawny black male with dark skin and a shaved head and a Boars cap on backwards and a burgandy bandanna over his face. With a bang, he hit his first victim. An Orange Grove gangster caught buckshot to the back.

The man was a black male of about 20 standing at 5'9 with light skin and big brown eyes and a birth mark on his right cheek wearing an orange and white plaid flannel jacket and gray khakis. He fell over coughing blood. The second Baller was a man wearing a purple and black plaid shirt and black jeans. He fired two 9mm's out the window letting off four shots from each. As the car pulled forward, he let off three more from each gun. The next OGF member, an African American female with dark skin the shade of coffee wearing an orange blouse and blue jeans and an NWA hat on fell with three rounds in her right breast.

The third Baller had corn rows and a LS Panics jersey and baggy blue jeans with a burgandy bandanna over his face fired a Glock 17 out the window but by this time, the third OGF member, a dark skinned black male with longer dreadlocks standing at six feet with a muscular frame wearing black dickies and a white t shirt ducked behind an orange manana returning fire. Dimebag, Slab, O Loc and Stick fired back and the passenger windows shatytered. "Motherfuking Ball Sacks trying to fade us!" Yelled O Loc.

"Fuck ya'll niggas!" Yelled Dimebag as he fired his browning HP back at them hitting the tail light on the right side and one round managed to hit the driver in his left shoulder and Slab hit the man in the panics jersey in the right elbow earning a cry of pain from the rival who fired off six more shots aiming at Slab but missing as he ducked back into the car.

Tyree fired a .357 back too as the car sped up the street. "What the fuck was that shit?!" Demanded JD. "I need a motherfucking heater too! i tossed mine!" Slab growled, "Fuck these bitch ass niggas! We're riding on them. Hey, Loc, get us a bucket so we can hoo ride on these marks!" O Loc was busy however noticing Tyree. "Wha the fuck is this shit? You got a strap? You act like you too good to kick it around here no more but then you wanna bust?"

"Nigga, that shit is for self defense I aint out there peeling caps for the fuck of it!" To his surprise, O Loc snatched the .357 from him. "Nah, fuck you. You aint getting a strap if you gonna be a lil bitch when the shit kicks off!" He handed JD the Revolver. "Here you go, my nigga. Still got five in the motherfucker. We gotta go catch these pussy Ballas, cuz is you riding?"

"Nigga gimm my strap back!" Growled Tyree. "Nah, Mr. Soul brother. You too big for this shit right? Self defense right? We're taking the fight to those bitches. If you aint down get the fuck from around here!" Tyree punched O Loc in the face. The short dread locked gangster fell over but got up aiming his Handgun at him. Tyree was getting in JD's face. "J, gimme the gun, man. Iknow what it is to be naked on these streets but i paid fo it, man."

JD froze. Dimebag and Slab helped trying to get the wounded homegirl to her feet. She was crying out in pain and fear. She felll over. Just then, a sound filled the night air and the wounded female was hit again, this time in the back of the neck from a more powerful round. Her head snapped forward as she fell to the ground her spinal cord exposed as the entire back of her neck was ripped open.

The screeching of tires filled the air as spinal cord fluid in addition to blood got all over Dimebag and Slab. They looked up to see a figure wearing a purple denim jacket and violet jeans, a man with a beanie and jherri curls firing down at them. The man drew on the OGF member who had narrowly dodged the driveby next and the sound of screeching tires filled the air.

The song Neighborhood Sniper by Eazy E blasted from the waiting getaway car, a purple Tahoma as the Baller fired the G3 from the rooftop striking down an OGF member. The gangter fell to his knees as a hole exploded in his chest and a hot slug came out."Fuck! Thatt shit was a diversion! Everbody get the fuck down!" Cried Dimebag.

Tyree was hit next. His entire face was pretty much gone as the rounds split his face in half and even as he was dead before he hit the concrete, his body twitching as his organs shut down a second round pieced through his already mangled face and split through his skull going through what had once been his nose up through his left eye socket and out of the top of his head taking out a chunk of brain matter about the size of a half eaten grape fruit and pieces of broken skull clung to his singed and bloodied hair and the pieces of his skull were about the size of a large shard of glass one might expect to find after somebody broke a window.

The shooter opened fire again. A round barely missed JD but he felt the air as it whizzed past him. It had gone by so fast he barely had time to comprehend it. "Get the fuck down, fool!" Yelled O Loc pulling him behind an beat up orange Tahoma. "Is you trying to get shot again?!"

He retrned fire ftom cover with the Glock 19. "Nigga, fuck all ya'll! BK for life!" he yelled. The Baller on the roof sneered with his smoking Sniper Rifle his jherri curls under his beanie glistening in the moon light and his teeth were also bright in the darkness. "Marks!" With that, he hopped off the roof as though he were some kind of ninja. He dropped down and ducked into the car. O Loc had already hotwired the car that had belged to the deceased female gang member and he backed it up and yelled to JD, "Come on, nigga get in!" JD got into the dark green Admiral. Slab hopped in the back seat. "Smash on it, G! We gotta buck on all these niggas!"

O Loc sped up the way and he leaned out yelling, "Yo, J, take the motherfucking wheel!" He fired out the window striking the back windshield of the Tahoma as they sped up the street past 60th street. They switched places and JD was driving while O Loc was shooting and Slab was firing as well. They sped up the street taking a right and JD stayed on them. "This bitch just went up Flauson, homie! Catch up to em, JD!" Yelled Slab.

The Tahoma still sped up. The sniper returned fire with a Beretta which hit the Amiral's front bumper and shot out the left headlight. "Ballas aint shit!" Yelled Slab as he sent rounds back and one round did graze the sniper's right hand as well as pieces of glass as he shot out the window. Just then, the rear view mirror exploded in glass shards as the Admiral came under fire from the east.

JD hit the brakes trying to not crash even as seven more rounds came towards the car aimed for his head but as he swerved the car skidding, the rounds instead hit the dash board. The Baller car that had done the drive-by was back and had tried to cover the Tahoma's escape which it did but as they were going too fast, they crashed into a telephone pole. The driver was killed by the impact, a deceased dark skinned black male from Belize lay against the steering wheel his head split open.

O Loc and Slab rushed the car forcing open the damaged door on the right hand passenger side. Slab aimed his Handgun in the faece of the Baller with the basketall jersey. "Reap what you sow motherfucker!" He pulled the trigger hitting the man in his right jaw and the round went straight through blowing out his molar as well as bits of jaw bone mixed in with broken blody teeth.

O Loc pulled out the gang member who had fired the shotgun dragging him by the neck kicking and punching him in the street. "You aint hard now, eh nigga?! What was all that shit you was popping off?!" He kicked him in the ribs before aiming his Handgun at his torso and pulled the trigger three times the first round hitting him in the left lung the second in the rib cage and the third in the heart.

The last Baller tried to escape despite a compound fracture in his right arm. O Loc put the hot barrel to the man's right cheek earning a howl of agony. "You wanted to ice some OGF niggas right partna? Well here I am!" He then noticed JD standing there, the .357 in hand. "Nah you know what? You almost shot my homie. Yo JD. Ice this nigga, man."

JD aimed the .357 at the man's forehead. The man had a mouth of blood presumably from internal injuries. "You niggas had this shit coming...!" Cried the Baller. "You G String bitches laid out my homie over on Little Bighorn, man!"

"You can suck his dick when you get to hell you bitch ass trick!" Growled O Loc. "JD, bust on this faggot. Don't be a lil bitch, nigga."

JD was hesitant. "Come on, fool what you shook? You already got bloody hands my nigga! Don't be acting like a female. Don't let these bitch niggas try and run you off the block!' Slab agreed. "Yeah, bro the time to hesitate been over, g. Think of it like this. He tried to pop you simple as that. Same way those bitches from CGF hit you and Jada."

"DON'T talk about my motherfucking girl, man!"

"Aint your girl no more, nigga! I heard about how them Tranny niggas played you like a piano. What's up?" Grinned the Baller. "Go ahead do it motherfucker if you got heart! You still aint getting my nigga Byron though. He'll see you a mile away with that scope, dog!"

JD put the barrel to his temple. "Tyree was getting out the game man. Your boy did him dirty!" The Baller tried to take one last punch taking a swing at JD. The African American backed up however and on instinct pulled the trigger hitting the Baller in the face. The round slapped noisily into the man's face just below the nose with a sickening squishing sound as the man's nose exploded in a burst of black flesh and crimson red blood spraying every direction. JD stared at the dead man twitching in the street looking like an ant that had just been stepped on laying crippled in the road.

JD thought to himself, _My life is over. I'm gonna end up in prison. Even if I don't I can't go back to school when I've done shit like this in the streets!_

O Loc and Slab got into the car and O Loc yelled, "Yo JD get your ass in, man! You hear those sirens?! It aint the fire department!" Slab added, "Come on, cuz let's raise the fuck up before one time get here! I aint trying to go to the towers!" JD didn;t even remember getting behind the wheel of the car and driving them out of there. He turned down an alley off Flauson. "You see that shit?!" Slab cried. "The Ball sacks got away!" O Loc, having confiscated the shotgun sneered. "We know where the fuck they stay a!t! JD, just drop us on by 108th so we can blow their heads off!"

JD was sweating as he sped them up the street. "Nah homie..." He said shaking. "They already tore through their with the hooptie. If they aint got the black and whites on their asses snatching them up for that shit then at least you can bet your ass they got their hitters waiting for any payback. We gotta wait on hitting them back."

"Is you serious?! You just saw what they did to the homie Tyree!" Stated Slab. "Yeah for real, J. I aint never known you to be a pussy dont start now!" O Loc said. JD growled, "Fuck you, nigga you the one that gave me his piece right before he got shot!"

"Man, what the FUCK a tre five seven gonna do against a motherfucking Sniper?! That slob was shooting anybody out there. You saw that shit! It could have been you, me any of us!"

"Yeah my brother..." Stated Slab. "On the real, we still standing. That puts it on us to get revenge for the homie Ty. And they Mayeisha. You can't tell me that wasn't foul!"

JD pulled into an alley just off 104th in Corona. "Man, what the fuck you doing?!" Demanded Slab. "This a Vagos neighborhood! Any of them see us we're toast!"

"The rollers are all over Strawberry looking for three niggas in a bucket. They aint gonna expect to see us in Corona."

"I don't give a fuck who hood this is. We got the straps. I DARE anybody come down this alley..." Stated O Loc. "It might be their hood but right now it's our alley way until we stab out, man!" He racked the shotgun again. "Fool you stupid. We outnumbered around here. The fuck we gonna do against a whole neighborhood?" Demanded Slab. "I swear I got love for you west side niggas but you play too much out here. On the East Side its a whole different ball game and if you saw how shit is out there you wouldn't even be talking that shit."

"Yeah? Well why the fuck you couldn't have just drove us to Strawberry then?" Demanded O Loc. "We already got the fools that hit are homies up from the car. What's a sniper and his driver gonna do? He might have been able to try that from a roof but he aint gonna be able to hit us in a moving car. I don't give a fuck if he's driving the car we driving oursor we both driving he aint Jack Howitzer."

"Loc, how you know the Sniper wasn't the diversion?"

"Nah, you tripping. The drive-by was the diversion..." Stated Slab. "We had our guards down focused on the Ballas on the ground we didn't even see the birds nest you feel me?"

"But how do we know they weren't both diversions? For all we know they expected some of us to come after them. Maybe more than just us three. Then they have a field day when they see us driving through. Sure, they sent a Sniper to our hood they sent a few hitters but we all know the real heavy hitters is in their hood. They got AK's, Tec 9's Uzis.."

"So what you saying?" Demanded Slab. "I'm saying, O Loc said we aint got a chance with a .357 against a Sniper. What's a .357, a couple of ninas and a pump gonna do against niggas with automatics and sniper rifles? We gotta come at them another day and catch their asses slipping. They took a loss too with their patnas in the Glendale," Replied JD.

Just then, they saw a helicopter flying ahead and they heard sirens about three blocks over. "Awww shit! They're looking around here any motherfucking way! We gotta ditch this motherfucker!" Cried out JD. "What about the straps?!" Demanded O Loc. "Fuck, take em with then I don't care we gotta get another ride and find somewhere to lay low!" They tore up the alley way but O Loc handed him an orange bandanna. "Put in on!" He did as fast as he could. Slab growled, "Shit..." He took out an orange one himself and put it in the gas tank soaking it before lighting it.

The three gangsters ran up the street looking through the residential neighborhood. They ran down another back alley behind some houses and JD noticed at least four cholos who were caught up in the search light. "Hey fuck off juras! We didn't do shit!" Yelled a light brown skinned gangster with a buzz cut and a thick black mustache standing at 5'7 with cut arms. "We haven't done shit but kick back all day! Muervete cabron!"

A couple of them ran to get off the streets. JD saw the searchlight moving and it was making its way back to the alley. They had no choice. "Hey, come on, we gotta duck in here!" He hopped the fence. O Loc and Slab did the same thing. O Loc got out a bobby pin and began to pick the back door lock. "O, hurry up, nigga! The one times is about tobe all up on us!" O Loc growled,"Don't rush me, bitch I'm going as fast as I can!" He finally had success and yelled, "Jackpot..." They got the back door open.

As they did, an old man of about 70 or so, a Mexican male of about 5'8 in height with gray hair and a grayng mustache and otherwise mestizo features with his hair in sort of a 50's style hairstyle came out. He was brandishing a 20 gauge for self defense. "¡Sal de mi casa pinche ladrones!"

O Loc and Slab tackled him and wrestled the shotgun from his arms before he could get off a shot and the two gang members began to kick and punch the old man. "That's enough!" JD yelled as the searchlight was outside on the streets. They saw it through the blinds. "Old man if you don't quit moving I'm gonna blow your fuckin head off shut the fuck up!'

Slab put a hand over his mouth."Take it easy grandpa...this shit'll all be over soon."

"Hey I aint in this shit to fuck over old people, dude. I int sign up for that shit..." JD warned. "Man, fuck this old buster! It's either him or us. I'm too young tp spend the rest of my life behind bars I got my whole life ahead of me. This motherfucker geroiatric he halfway in the grave already. It aint even really murder since he gonna be dead anyway. It's more like euthenasia."

"JD, go get some duct tape so we can tie this old motherfucker up before he gets the cops up in here!" Ordered Slab. JD did. "Don't fuckin smother the poor bastard that's all I ask!" He ransacked his desks looking for anything. He couldn't find anything in terms of duct tape but when he went into the bathroom he found a medical kit and he opened it and he found some gauze and there was medical tape. It would have to do. JD came to the old man on the floor and he taped his mouth and hands shut.

"Now get your motherfucking hand out the way, man! Let him breathe through his nose."

They waited, five minutes, then ten then fifteen. There was a knock at the door. O Loc lay next to him with the shotgun to his chin. "You make a peep, your head comes off..." He whispered. JD spotted a picture of the old man with family. There was woman close to his age. He also had adult kids and grandkids. JD grabbed the picture and he pointed to the picture then at the old man and he beckoned to the .357 in his hand and the red and blue lights outside plus the searchlight. He saw from the fear in his eyes that despite the language barrier, he understood.

They waited until morning and then they used the old man's phone. Slab called somebody who would arrange to pick them up. He got off the phone. "That's my homegirl, Diamond. She's gonna be coming out to scoop us up. We gotta sit tight till she get here though."

Finally, there was a honk outside. O Loc aimed the shotgun at the old man. "We gotta finish this motherfucker, man. We can't have the police up our asses."

"You aint killing no old man, Loc. I aint standing for it..." JD warned. "He kept quiet."

"Only cause you showed him his family. How we know he aint at least gonna try and get some of his sons on us now? They probably bang too!" JD replied, "You sound dumb as hell."

"Enough...if we aint killing him..." He hit the old man over the head with his pistol. "What the fuck you doing?!" JD demanded. "You said don't kill him!" JD growled, "Yeah but pistol whipping him could have killed him!" He checked his pulse. "He's alive. Let's get outta here. If you want to come back and change his depends next week that's on you it aint on me."

They headed outside. A light skinned black girl sat behind the wheel of arusty orange Greenwood waiting for them. She was maybe as much as 40% European however and she had neck length brown hair but her lips still resembled that of an African American and she had red lipstick and a white blouse and black dickies on. "Come on, ya'll let's bump. This neighborhood's sketchy as hell and I see five o all over."

Just then a deep voice called out, "Oye pinche mayate!" A tall Chicano of medium brown complexion at six feet tall with a handle bar mustache and a soul patch wearing a white wife beater and white khakis with a Las Venturas Pirates cap on backwards and three of his homies, one of Mexican descent wearing a Pounders jersey and standing at 5'9 with light brown skin and a black hair net over his slicked back black hair, a dark skinned Guetemalan wearing a gold football jersey and a light blue bandanna around his forehead who had shaggy black hair to his neck, and a Salvadoran standing at 5'10 with a shaved head and a tattoo of the number 104 for 104th street and La Corona under this.

He had his hand on his 9mm under his shirt. "You know where you're at, fool?" Demanded the Salvadoran. "Look these fools got cuetes!" Growled the shaggy haired Vago. The Vagos aimed guns and O Loc and Slab did the same. Diamond also aimed a .22 at them. "What's really hood?!" She demanded."ou're in OUR hood, puta."

"We were just leaving...we weren't doing shit but trying to duck the pigs. We didn't mean no disrespect. You hate cops as much as we do."

"This aint no fuckin hotel, leva..." Stated the tall one. JD had only one idea for something that might work. "Hey there's an old man up in there...I think he needs a doctor...he's alive but he needs help."

The Chicano aimed his handgun at JD but the Salvadoran warned, "Chale ese! The chotas are half a block down the street. No bailasos, perro."

The Guetemalan ran inside to check on the older man. "Mr. Guitirez!" The tall man growled, "This shit aint over. Beating up an old timer..."

"If you wanna make something of it come try us..." Challenged Diamond. They got in the car. They sped up the street. "Man, ya'll lucky I came through cause the police is everywhere. They're shaking niggas and bitches down to try and find out what happened. My pager's been blowing up telling me not to come west of the '10 and then I got you hitting me up..." Stated Diamond.

"Yeah well it probably aint safe for JD and Loc to head home just yet right now so they can stay with me in my hood for now..."

"Aight, that's fine but Gauge is over there stuck on the west side too laying low in the 50's just so you know. He called me too trying to see where you was at cause some more shit went down when ya'll was over there chasing Ballas."

"Then we in the same boat and can't nobody go home yet..." Stated Slab.

"Hey, I NEED to get back man, I got class today..." Stated JD. "That shit gonna have to wait a couple days, partna. You can afford to miss a few things..."

JD growled, "Maybe that's how ya'll did in school but I fucked around in High School and I still only learned about half of what I could have when I graduated. I'm trying to learn!"

"What's worse..." Asked Diamond. "Missing a few days of class or missing all the days if you get locked up? Slab's right on this one, homie. Just tell them you got sick or something."

Morgasm

Morgan, Monty and Eddie sat down at Uncle Earl's table. Aunt Mavis had cooked them up a dinner of spaghetti and meat balls with garlic bread. To drink, they had orange soda. "Uncle Earl I can't help but notice you uh..." Monty said with a mouthful of bread. "Speak your mind, boy..." The AV original growled. "You aint drinking?" Asked Monty.

Earl's eyes softened. "Yeah well...I been trying to cut back. Give my liver some time to recover. You should do the same thing, son."

He turned to Morgan. "And how you been, kid? Been ages since I seen you around. I know life on the inside aint a picnic but...it's the life guys like us chose. Most people in our line of work end up in prison anyway. It makes sense to have a crew looking after things on the inside, don't it?"

"Yes sir..." Morgan replied. He tok a bite of spaghetti and chewed and swallowed and then said, "But I thought you was done with the life?"

"Nobody ever really gets out of it, Morgan. I'm just slowing down. I helped start this thing of ours. See when I went to prison, I didn't have anything against the men that are our enemies. I supported their bil to vote in '64 before we went in there. But a lot of em inside had that Malcolm X attitude. Maybe it was justified. I'd say I understand why a nigger back then would hate a peckerwood like me but nowadays? It's 1996. They're still rioting. Hell they just found BJ Smith innocent just to avoid a repeat of the riots. See in there? We;'re the minority. Prison is a reflection of society. Always remember that. But as bad as things were then...now it's worse inside and that's what America would look like if they were the majority. Aryans have to wise up. Or we're dead. See, the Mexicans? The southern ones that is...they don't deal with us cause they love us. It's like playing baseball. When your opposing team gets first pick and they pick one of two guys remaining, you have to take the other man, right? Better than being a man short."

"Them Mexicans don't got any love for us at all, Uncle Earl..." Eddie stated. "But they're like us. They're smarter than the toads. And the Northerners? Shit they were never anything else but a bunch of rebels that got mre power than they should have. Hell, if it wasn't for them there'd be no reason for us to be involved with the Ese's. Those Rifa bastards and the Families and Ballas can say that the Vanguard would have folded if the South Siders didn't have our backs. But if that was true we'd have been folded in the 60's before there was any damn Nuestra Syndicato."

"Amen to that, boy..." Earl said sipping tea. "We can make allies like we make enemies. BGA and Onda used to be friends. So maybe tomorrow our enemies will be our friends and our enemies will e our friends..." He chuckled. "Wouldn't that be funny if it ended up being Onda and BGA against us and NS banding together? In some ways it almost makes more sense. The BGA are a bunch of revolutionary wannabes and Ona...they may be god businessmen but their business relies on illegals to bolster their numbers. I aint sure whether it's their shitty vetting process or the illegals that gives them more. At least the NS vets their men like we do."

"That aint true, Ed..." Morgan said speaking up. "The South Siders might have numbers and La Onda may have more people than NS for the reason you said but Onda is still elitist. NS can defend neighborhoods but the can never take one. And the Vagos can take a neighborhood but they can't defend it."

"Defend it? Shit they can't even keep it once they take one!" Eddie sneered. Earl sighed. "Speaking of rebels...I got something I need from all you boys needs doing. Those goddamn Hot Rod Woods have been disrespecting us. The Beast has been doing what he can putting those sons of bitches in the hat and some of them got with the program. Only they ended up getting validated too so they're locked down."

Morgan knew to what thing he was referring. Some members of the Hot Rod Woods didn't like the way the Vanguard was and they decided to rebel and fight them refusing to be dominated by another prison gang but the AV wanted to be the dominant white prison gang in all US prisons. The Hot Rod Woods were comprised of some white gangsters from Southern San Andreas who were somewhat inspired by Mexican lowrider and hot rod cultures where as wiggers acted black but weren't actually from a varrio so they had to roll with the woods on the inside. Just as cholos was a sub culture of Mexican American heritage in the South West that wasn't limited to just one gang, the same was true for skinhead and peckerwood culture with the whites.

Many of the woods wore plaid shirts same as brown and black gang bangers but they wore their style somewhat different. What was more, they let Mexican Americans in if they were of primarily white ancestry being a castizo in the Spanish caste system equal to 75% European blood and they especially accepted Spanish Americans. They had less of a racist ideology than the AV did but that wasn't so much the issue as it was a challenge to their authority. Many Hot Rods had bowed down already seeing it as a losing war but they were no longeer the key holder gang for white prospects looking to join the AV. That went to Most Hated and they were more hateful than Hot Rod Woods or the AV for that matter since the AV allowed Jewish members.

"But..." Continued Earl. "Some of these boys are in neighborhoods we control. They're trying to recruit dealers that work for us. That, we can't have/ The Beast asked me to have you handle it."

"Consider it done, pop..." Replied Eddie as he dipped his bread into some of the tomato sauce. "We'll take care of it."

"The man's name is Jacob Lowery..." Earl told them. "Did five years for being the getaway in a 24-7 robbery. He joined the HRW's and he wanted to become one of us but when the vote came down a lot of people didn't think he had the discipline. Kid was an addict. Been in and outta prisn since the 80's. Oh sure, he can fight. But he can't think. He ended up joining the cocksuckers that want to go against us. So now he's gotta go."

Eddie and Monty finished their meals and Earl instructed them to go outside so he could talk to Morgan alone. "Kid, I heard you got a little...'hobby' when it comes to dealing with the enemy. It's why even when people inside would know they were in the hat, they would hope you were in the SHU so that if they ended up getting hit, it wouldn't be you who did it. Now personally? I find what I HEAR disgusting. But after I founded all this and I gotout and I went to Nam...believe me..I saw worse. And that sort of thing does have a psychological impact on your enemy. Like Romans crucifying Hannibal's people or Vlad the Impaler making Turkish Kebobs out of the Ottomans. So..if we ever do a job together I better never catch you doing this. But I think you should send a message to the HRW's."

He then said as Morgan got ready to leave the house. "Hey! i got some tools in the shed you can use."

Morgan nodded and walked out directing his brothers to come. They went to the shed where Morgan selected a Remington 1100 Shotgun. Monty took an Itchaca and Eddie grabbed a Skorpion.

They got into a dark gray Emporor. "Come on, gotta get to the Del Perro Pier..." Eddie stated. They began to drive. "So what do you think of these Hot Rod Woods, Morgan?" He asked. "I think they're goddamn stupid going against the fuckin grain like that. They must be on a suicide mission."

"Yeah but can't ya kinda understand where they're coming from. Why do the Mexicans get to have two gangs and we can't?"

"I'm pretty sure both Nuestra Syndicato and La Onda wish the other didn't exist..." Stated Monty. "Then again maybe they'd never have anybody to fight left if they didn't have each other. They both want to be the only Mexi gang in the state pen."

"Monty's right. There's not just strength in numbers. There's strength in unity. Numbers don't really count for shit if you don't have a united front. If you want to get down to it, that's why the west was won. Or lost depending how you look at it."

"That's bullshit..." Eddie said. "The west was always gonna be won. It was logistics, brother. Even if it weren't disease, it would have still been weapons advantage."

"Yes and no..." Replied Morgan. "I did a lot of reading in the pen. You know that no steel is as tough as obsidian was? I always thought it was the other way around. Monty, you may not like being allied with south siders but if there's one thing I like about it it's the amount of books we can get from each other."

Monty cracked open a can of Pisswasser . "Fuckin a brothers I'll drink to that. But between the three of us I think I might be happy just being Most Hated. I don't know. It's like we're the only REAL white gang in the San Andrean pen. We might be the enforcement for the Vanguard but there's honestly a lot of pieces of shit in it. The fact that the Vanguard would ever even WANT a bunch of low lives like the Hot Rods in their ranks makes me think they aint all they're cracked up to be."

"You better watch your fuckin mouth, Monty!" Warned Morgan. "You might be my family but you know the rules. The Vanguard comes first!" Eddie agreed. "If I e ever hear you bad mouth it again I'll end you myself, bro."

"What? You guys aint gonna kill me. This is US. We're all just having an honest conversation. I wouldn't kill you for saying something's wrong with MH 1."

"Well, oyou're right..." Morgan said softening his tone. "I won't harm you when it's just the three of us but don't EVER say it around anybody outside the three of us. I don't think I could kill ya, Monty but the brothers inside wold leave us no choice and if we didn't we'd have to be killed ourselves."

Eddie told him, "I'll kill you, Monty. If I had to, I would. I love you broski but I love the Vanguard more..."

"How are you gonna say that? I'm with Most Hated I did it outta survival and I believe in it but I wouldn't kill you. I'd help you escape and make it look like I tried to kill ya but I wouldn't kill ya."

"MH 1 is to the Vanguard wheat Vagos are to Onda. You're just foot soldiers. It's not the same thing."

"Yeah but you knew me your whole life almst and all my life. How can you pick them over blood? ! Blood is everything. And any true Aryan would know that."

"All right, you wanna know why I would, Monty? And I'd say the same thing if it was Morgan in the hat. It's simple mathematics. If you're in the hat or Morgan's in the hat, and I don't kill you knowing I'm the one you would trust and who could get closest to you, if I didn't do it, they'd kill me and then they'd kill you. Thre would be no saving you either way unless you went PC and snitched in which case you'd deserve it anyway. So by not killing you, it would result in more lives lost. Killing you oisn't just self preservation. It's the lesser of two evils when we'd both be marked anyway in the alternative. And the same thing goes for if you killed me when I was trying to get you. Killing me would just get you even deeper and the brothers would just send people until you were done. I don't like the rules but it makes sense. It's the best way to preserve a warrior organization. We're only as strong as our weakest link. So for your sae and mine, don't be that."

"But can't we just have that conversation between us bros?"

"Yeah. Like Morgan said. The three of us we can be honest about it. But if you ever get high and disrespect the brotherhood inside, or outside in front of another brother who aint our family, we can't have that. "

"That won't be a problem. But since you're willing to kill me and Morgan doesn't think he'd be able to, I aint coming to you for anything no more."

"You mean you won't expect me to bail your ass out or need money for your next fix? How will I ever get through the day?"

"No, I mean I aint trusting you with nothing else. Whether I get made a brother or not I aint working for you. I'll work for Morgan."

"You wouldn't really have a choice you gotta take orders from all of us unless you become one of us. And that aint likely. As for not trusting me? I could give a rats ass. You was always the runt of the litter."

"If you ever kill Monty I'll also kill you..." Stated Morgan. "So don't go thinking you'll be able to save your own ass. I love our heritage I love the Vanguard even though there's things I wish were different. We've spent decades of losing and shedding blood to get some respect. But Monty is right. We've been brothers long before any of us went to prison."

"You realize they'd greenlight you for that, right? Hitting me wouldn't be sanctioned especially if I took care of business!" Morgan didn't waste a second. He replied "Not if I make it look like Monty killed you in self defense. That you killed each other. And maybe they wouldn't be able to prove it, the cops I mean. But it would be the simplest explaination and it's what would help them sleep at night."

"So you're lecturing me on brotherly love while saying you'd kill me if I killed Monty. Instead of just us two remaining as a duo kicking ass and taking names for the Vanguard?"

"If you murder our brother you're damn right. If it would mean that Monty doesn't get to ride off into the sunset neither do you. That aint the Vanguard's code that's my code. I'd do the same to Monty if he killed you but he already said he wouldn't. I get that our baby bro is a fuck up and a junkie, Ed but when a junkie has more empathy and basic decency than you, that's a bit concerning!"

Eddie sneered. "Whatever..." As he lit a Redwood up. "Don't fuckin light that shit up in my car!" Growled Morgan. "It aint your car or my car, dumb ass! Uncle Earl had it stolen for us. Earl's the kinda man I look up to more than you, Morgue. He does what needs to be done. He don't cry over spilled milk neither. He's the kind of man that despite being 'retired' or whatever the fuck that means, he can call and have a car stolen and brought to his home from boys who weren't even born in the days whe he was running things. All while we're eating and none of us even noticed. That's real power, Morgan don't you want that?"

"What I want is to keep my family together and outta prison. If it's the AV that does that, I'll use it but the truth is I would have used any avenue to keep us safe. I don't know why we all seem to keep getting into trouble. I was thinking maybe we'd stay out of it for once and just collect the money that's owed us."

"You can't expect that in this lifestyle, dude! This is till death. It's a fuckin marriage except this aint the kind of marriage you wanna ever get divorced from no matter how bad it gets! It can always be worse."

"And you can't expect to ever be considered the same as Uncle Earl! He's a legend that has no real replacement. Don't even try! There's only one Uncle Earl. You want the power he has but do you want to do over a decade in prison? We did time that would be considered hard by most but it's small peanuts compared to him!'"

They listened to the song Creep by Stone Temple Pilots as they talked on Los Santos Rock Radio and Morgan cursed as he realized they were already there before the song could finish. He spotted a bald Caucasian male with blue intense eyes and a narrow and tall muscular body. He was kissing a Mexican American woman all while surrounded by other members of Hot Rod Woods. They were smoking weed and drinking wine. As Monty and Eddie got out of the car, and started firing at the rivals as they were under the pier, Morgan cranked the volume up both to drown out the gunshots and to not miss out on his song.

Morgan fired striking a Hot Rod gang member, a red haired gray eyed gang member standing at 5'9 wearing suspenders over a white tank top and who had two lightning bolt tattoos on his right side of his neck. He fired striking the man in the stomach but it seemed his brothers had beatten him to the punch firing upon three gang members, and Eddie mowed down two of them with six rounds in the stomach and the next man, a blonde haired guy of about 19 with a crew cut and blue eyes fell as a chunk of his brain came out through the entrance wound near his right ear.

The third gang member was wounded by Eddie as two rounds found his right knee cap. Monty finished him off with a pull of the trigger to his chin blowing his face away and a good chunk of skull. The man who they were trying to take out, was and had been a leader of the Hot Rod Woods inside in prison and he had been a loyalist to the Vanguard inside and had advised others to do the same but on the streets his sympathies were more in line with the Hot Rod Woods on the streets.

He fired a Taurus snub nose at them but the three brothers took cover behind the car as he discharged three shots at them. The other remaining members of his were firing at them too as was his girlfriend. His girlfriend had curly black hair and caramel colored skin. She had somewhat of a voluptous build and she had almond shaped and almond colored eyes.

Monty growled, "Guys like you are what's wrong with the fuckin HRW's!" He fired from cover at the skinhead leader. "Laying with mestizos is tantamaunt to treason! You aint no fuckin Wood!" The skinhead replied, "FUCK YOU! I did my time in Eagle Bay I aint going back! Not for the cops and not for you! Fuck the Vanguard!"

Morgan focused on the next as there was only four left not counting Jacoband his wife who when he was incarcerated, was his fiancee. Morgan aimed at a skinhead wih a mohawk haircut a brown haired brown eyed caucasian man who was half Mexican and as his mother had been mestiza this made him 25% Spanish and 25% Amerindian, roughly the same ancestry as Angie but he was considered white so she wasn't exactly a mestiza either but Monty still considered both impure. He fired striking the man in his right arm which bled in an explosion of crimson as his sinew and muscles were exposed and he fell his open sores exposed to the wet sands below him as he cried out in pain, futile at stopping his impending doom.

The next man was half white and half Filipino. He had Caucasian features as he was taller thn an average Filipino nd mch lighter but his eyes were not as Asian looking but his skin was still bronze. Monty hit him with a shot to the chest. "No, fuck you, pal!" Screamed Monty. "You ask me, the Vanguard should put us and you on the yards alone and we can all contend for key holder, bitch!" He watched as the bleeding gang member coughed blood and suffocated by the air against his lungs.

Eddie peppered the last of the remaining three emptying his magazine before reloading. He fired striking down Jacob's girlfriend next hitting her with two rounds in the right collar bone. Morgan saw that one of the three that Eddie shot was still breathing even with four rounds in his back and he crawled on his stomach like a worm. Morgan kicked him in his sides. He dragged him towards the waves.

"Did you know you could drown in just a few inches of water?!" He tossed him to the waves. The man sputtered and gagged, his bloody mouth trying to struggle to breathe as water and blood filled his mouth. The waves carried him out further which wouldn' have been fatal to a man in good condition but a man shot with an SMG had less strength to fight.

Monty kicked his girklfriend over and he slammed her head once into the ground before taking a half empty beer can and shoving the liquid down his throat. "You ask me...the Vanguard should have gone after Jake and his loved ones sooner...not later...you should have been killed the second you dated one of us. And so should he..." She coughed and sputtered and he took another beer can and shook it up and opened it letting it spray into her eyes and she screamed. "Look at you all covered in white foam, baby doll! Bet it aint the first time you been covered in white foam by a man with a shaved head!"

"ANGIE!" Cried out Jacob as he fired his Taurus emptying the last of the rounds. A single round did hit Eddie in the right arm before he could shoot the leader. Morgan fired his Remington striking him from behind and the side from a 7'oclock position but as he was hit and staggered, one round from the .38 hit Morgan in his left hand going through the palm. Jacob fell over bleeding and Morgan screamed in pain and anger at his bleeding hand with a hole and yelled, "WHAT IS THIS SHIT FUCKIN STIGMATA?!" He then advanced on the fallen gang member with a growl.

Monty continued to drown his wife with the beer. She was taking too long to die however so he took a full unopened can and began to bludgeon her in the left temple with it as hard as he could several times. Monty didn't know at which point the beer can ruptured as he did it with such speed but it sprayed the cracked open temple wound with golden liquid and white foam. He leaned in her ear. "I know us men with shaved heads are sexy but in the next life get with a Vago or an Azteca, sweetheart..."

Eddie, meanwhile tackled the wounded HRW leader. He began to punch him in the face. By the third blow however, the skinhead hit Eddie with a taser. He fell over twitching but Morgan kicked the weapon from his hands and he stood on his chest with one foot his right. He hit him with the shotgun once in the face splitting his skull open. "Take time with a wounded hand cause it likes to heal... take time with a wounded hand cause it likes to steal take time with a wounded hand cause it likes to heal I like to steal ..I'M HALF THE MAN I USED TO BE !" He bellowed along to the sound of Scott Weiland's chorus.

"Fuckin bitch..." Growled Monty as he finished off the wife of the enemy gang member, shaking with rage and adrenaline as he watched her stop moving.

"That...son of a whore fuckin...tased me...like a woman...or a cop...! FUCK!" Cried Eddie. "Goddamn it I feel emasculated...and a little aroused..."

"I'M HALF THE MAN I USED TO BE! THESE FEEEEEEEEELINGS AS THE DAWN IT FADES TO GRAAAAY!" Wailed Morgan as he pressed the shotgun sideways into the leader's throat crushing his larynx.

He stood up. To his surprise, nobody had seen it. Then he saw one person who had. It was a Caucasian male with a septum piercing and green hair with his shirt of wearing only black swim trunks. He ran trying to get to somebody, anybody. He pulled him back getting him in a headlock. "You two!"He yelled. "Get em in the trunk!"

Monty's blue eyes widened. "Oh shit, you've gotta be kidding me, Morgan..." Morgan shook his head. "Aint kidding! Uncle Earl's orders and you REALLY don't want to get on his bad side. Remember when we were kids?!"

"All right all right...Jesus this bitch is heavy! Fucking fat ass cow!" He threw her into the trunk hitting her head inside of it. He then strained getting Jacob up. "Jesus, Ed...hey don't get up and help me or anything..."

"Hey, Monty, I've been shot and taze so you can suck me...I'm having an existential crisis right now, man! You think you're a hot shot of the wood pile...prove it..."

Morgan, meanwhile, ripped the man's septum piercing out and he shrieked loudly until Morghan put a hand over his mouth and before the bleeding witness could bite him, Morgan put a knee into his back kneeing him hard in the spine and he drove it into him with all his weight as he hit the ground and Morgan kneed down into him. He lost his voice and his mouth hung open. "I HATE THESE FUCKING THINGS! THEY LOOK GAY AS SHIT! YOU FROM WEST VINEWOOD, BOY?!"

He then held the bloody piercing and said, "You want it back?" He shoved it down the witnesses throat forcing it down and as it bulged in his throat, Morgan punched him as hard as he could and he grinned with trumph at the sound of the man making gurgling and choking sounds and he bled internally inside his throat as the piercing cut him. "Dead men tell no tales..." He said standing up, with wet sand on his knees of his pants. He helped Eddie to his feet after taking his own shirt off just to be safe and put it between their hands. "It's okay, little brother, you're gonna be all right..."

"I thought I was a fuckin goner there, Morgan...jesus...do you think I'm gonna go to hell?" He asked in somewhat of a whimper. "Yeah. Probably. But so will all the other Vikings. One man's hell is another man's Valhalla. It's our heaven. In that way...I don't think the two world views contradict each other. You don't want to go to the Christian heaven, brudder. Aint our scene and the music is shit and we're all junkless angels."

Eddie chuckled. '"You know I remember back at the Big House...the Muslims in there were saying that women were the majority of people in hell..." He said as the three got in the car. "It was their way of trying to get the Families and Ballas to stop lusting after women and wait till marriage or some shit...you think that's true? Cause if it is whether it's Christianity or Islam that's true, and the bible acknowledes other gods as being alive in some verses...but that they're false...we'll get to be there with all the sexy wenches..."

"Wherever I end up there will always be women," Replied Morgan and Eddie nodded. "Same here."

They began to drive out of the area. "All right...we gotta get ourselves a camera and get a few more things..." Announced Morgan. "Then, it's lights cameras and action. You sure they're dead?" He asked. "Positive. You crushed his wind pipe, right? And I know I beat that bitch good."

2 Hours Later

Morgan was recording. Set out in front of him nude and on display were the corpses of Jacob and Angie. Morgan had her legs lifted in the air as went down on her. "Ohhhhh! God yes!1 Aye papi!" She cried out. The song I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston played in the background, Meanwhile, Jacob was in the corner jerking off. "God, I love it when you fuck my wife. Fuck, Morgan...I wish I could be you, man! A made mad always puts it down with the ladies better than a Hot Rod Wood any day...speaking of which...my Wood is a Hot Rod right now...what do you say, cowboy?!"

Morgan grinned. "Hold your horses, peckerwood. I'll get right to you in a second. You know what they say...ladies first and nice guys finish last..."

"What the fuck, cabron it's one thing you wanna eat my panocha and fuck me but now you wanna fuck my man too?! Greedy motherfucker!" Morgan told her, "We're gonna be together a long time, chica. I might as well show him a thing or two. You think you've had orgasms I'll show you how a man doing eight years fucked...and he'll do it to you after I do it to him..."

Morgan sighed. "Well, then...get yourself lubed up, boy...I'll be there with you in a minute. I know most women get off from tongue more than dick so I'll give her a good munching and then I'll get to you and show you how a REAL MAN pokes a woman...but I aint a fag so I'm gonna need you to borrow some of your wife's lipstick and put on this wig..." He said holding up a curly red wig.

What Morgan saw and what the camera, and what Eddie saw as he violated his better judgement and opened the door to see what was happening, were two different things. Eddie saw what the camera saw. Which was Morgan performing cunnilingus on a dead woman and then proceeding to press the two dead lovers lips together as if to "Kiss" so that her lipstick would get on his and he had also put a red wig on the bald man.

Morgan grinned as he went down on Andea."AYYYEEEE PAPITO!" She howled as Jacob kissed her on the mouth while her stomach and breasts heaved as he ran his tongue up her clit. "Oh, baby..." She grinned. "I thought you were never gonna give me the kind of threesome I wanted after I let you fuck me and Sherri back in Red County..."

"Better late than never, baby...I fucking love you..." He growled as he tongue kissed her and she moaned against his lips.

The next thing he did was begin to mount Jacob from behind. "You know..." Morgan said. "A woman can never really make a man orgasm like another man can...sure they can make ya cum from your dick but only another man can cause a man to just shake as he has an anal orgasm. Just hit all those fuckin nerve endings back there..."

He grunted as Morgan penetrated him. While this happened, Angie lay there her eyes in little slits, rolling her tongue masturbating as he jack hammered into the younger gang member. "Ooooh..." She purred. "My two blanco sucios! I could never get a vato to agree to this kinda shit with me!"

While this was happening to Morgan, Eddie was witnessing his brother sodomize Jacob's corpse through the crack of the door because Uncle Earl had paged them with another job and he had come to say so only to see his brother balls deep in a dead man while giving him a reach around while muttering something in the wigged man's ear before biting his earlobe passionatley. "You like that, don't ya ?!" Screamed Morgan before punching him in the right side of his rib cage as he climaxed. And while Morgan was seeing and feeling lube, Jerveinerslidin vaseline to be exact, what Eddie and the camera saw was a man climaxing inside the anus of a dead man all while using his feces as lubricant.

"God..." Groaned Jacob "I always thought the no man on man action law was bullshit..."

"it aint gay!" Warned Morgan. "As long as you're dressed like a girl and she's an actual girl. Then it's bi at most. And I'm okay with that...most male porn dudes are. Ron Jeremy is. Straight and gay dudes look up to us..."

"Whatever you say, princess..." Said Jacob with an eye roll. "Hey!' Morgan barked at Angie "If you're finished jilling off get your sweet ass over here. You got some felching to do and papa's gonna watch. Then...me and Jake will both be nice guys and finish last...on your face..."

Eddie didn't know what was going to happen next. He could watch no more. He ran to the bathroom projecting vomiting. He knew his brother wasn't all there in the head and that what he saw and what Eddie saw were two different things but he knew what felching was and even though the image that Eddie would never get out of his head was one thing while what Morgan was seeing was another, he didn't know how the alive-to-dead translation of that was going to play out and he didn't want to know.

Monty came in after he was done and Eddie looked at him with bloodshot teary eyes. "You all right, bro? What's taking Morgan so long?"

"Trust me you don't wanna know..." Eddie groaned. "Wait did you actually see it?!" The youngest brother got a twisted grin of both humor and genuine curiosity. "DO NOT GO IN THAT FUCKING ROOM, MONTY IM' SERIOUS!" He bellowed. He stood up. "You hear me?!" Monty backed down. "Okay all right! You know I'm a grown man, dude. You can't just tell me what to do like when we were kids, man!"

"Monty..." Eddie said his breath awful. "I'm begging you, man...uncle Earl asked for him to do this shit and we're gonna send it to the other HRW's to show them what happens when they fuck with us but...you and me...we need to have no part of that..." He sat down sobbing from what he just saw. Monty hugged him. "It's gonna be all right, bro. As long as we stick together. You wana tell me what it was you just saw if I can't see it?"

"No...not now...maybe some day but...god I don't want to think about it...jesus christ...i don't know if the shit he just did is gonna single handedly make the Hot Rod Woods shit themseles with fear and give up or if it's gonna get Morgan green lit for going too far."

"All right well...some day tell me, man. I know i aint one of the chosen yet like you guys and I do prefer MH 1 as a philosophy but I'm still your family you can talk to me. Like everybody always tells me I am a junkie so I aint gonna judge you. It's gonna be okay, man."

"No...no it's not..." Eddie stated. "We're all going to hell..." Stated the middle brother. "What? You don't believe in fuckin hell bro! We aint fuckin Semites."

"I meant Valhalla...we're all going to Valhalla..." Eddie said with a sigh. "Oh...yeah thats probably true Morgue is a crazy fuckin warrior, man. You wanna beer?" Offered Monty. "Montgomery..." Stated Eddie addressing him by his actual name. "I'm gonna need a hell of a lot more than that...as much as it takes to forget what i saw..."

They heard Morgan scream out, "NOW BOTH OF YOU GET OVER HERE AND SWALLOW MY LOAD! I DON'T GOT ALL DAY!" Monty chuckled and said, "What the fuck..." Eddie warned, "Don't...I'm telling you. Let's go get high brother. Or drunk. Or both. Our brother is seriously fucked up."

 _Little Kyoto, Los Santos_

 _Giri_

Hayako found himself in the Binco trying on new clothes. He bought a Sharps t shirt and olive pants. He glared at Suzuki. "Watashi wa anata ni mo kore o teian suru tame ni anata o korosubekidesu!"

(I should kill you for even suggesting this!)

Suzuki took a drag on his cigarette. "Watashitachi wa hikukunakereba naranai, baka! Keisatsu ga soshō de watashitachi o mireba karera wa watashitachi o utagaudeshou!"

(We have to lay low, idiot! If the police see us in suits they will suspect us!)

"I feel like a peasant!" Growled Hayako. Suzuki replied, "You are Burakumin...you are already considered this. That's why you became Yakuza."

"Yes, but Yakuza is the one place where we can be royalty."

The blonde cashier a blue eyed curly haired woman with a c cup bust standing at 5'5 weighing 140 lbs looked at him saying, "Hey that really looks good on you!"

"Kono kiiroi kami no akuma o watashi kara tōzakete kudasai."

(Get this yellow haired devil away from me)

"Don't be rude, Hayako. This is not Nipan. We must try to adapt here."

"Then get this FUCKING GAIIJIN OUT OF MY FACE! I WILL PAY YOU WHEN I AM READY! GO!" He screamed. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave..." She said with fear in her voice. "You insulent dog...do you know who I am and what I could have done to you and your family?! I see entitled military brats at home all the time who look just like you...it is you who needs to leave..."

"Leave now or I'm calling the cops!" She said. The other customers took notice. He pulled out his new 9mm and said, "You will be calling a coroner if you do one more thing to annoy me, yellow haired dog..." The customers cried out, "He;s got a gun!" He yelled, "NOBODY MOVE! This isn't a robbery...but I am going to educate all of you on manners..."

"This is not how we do things in America!" Suzuki warned. "You are getting us unwanted attention!" Just then, glass shattered and a storm of rounds came through. Three PCJ600's had pulled up and were firing into the store. The female clerk was mowed down by at least sixteen rounds and several other patrons were also hit by the stray rounds intended for the two Yakuza. "Fuck! The Kkhangpae!" Cried out Suzuki. "Suddenly, I am not so rash am i?!" Shot back Hayako as the two men stayed behind cover but began to return fire from behind clothing shelves.

* * *

That's all for this chapter. i decided to end it with a cliff hanger. Next chapter will pick up and continue on the shootout between the Japanese and Korean mafia at the Binco and Javier will be shown in the next chapter. Also I know this story has enough protagonists as it is but I was contemplating adding a seventh character a Polynesian character since his is a prequel to Concrete Jungle and that was my idea t do in that originally too. It would feel wrong to npt have the Polynesians represented in at least one of my San Andrean fics especially now that I'm gonna e doing more east coast oriented stories like Wasto (Boston) plus Vice City and an upcoming Liberty City fic set in the 70's and 80'. ...maybe plus a Texas one down the line but I want to try and finish off Episodes From LS first.

So with Eladora yes she and her gan did kill who you think she did and the name of the mission was a reference to the historical Bruto. And with Danny's baseball game I got to show a civilian side to life in the hood and he is trying to still hold onto his childhood. And as far as Eladora killing you know who, and whether or not she's a Mary Sue...the anser is no. In fact there's a twist of reality to it just as much as Trevor killing Johnny in GTA V. Because the younger gang members especially teens do the most dirt in street gangs and by the time you get to be OG you slow down. Unlike Trevor it's not a kill she particularly enjoyed or wanted to do though she just did it for her neighborhood. And yes I had the vagos stand in for the real life Lennox 13 be called La Corona since El Corona is incorrect for a title.

With Zeke and what I showed with him and JD i wanted to show an instance of police brutality that differed a bit from what you saw in GTA San Andreas with CJ and also a it from what we just saw with Eladora in that it is unexpected as you would have thought the police might have targeted JD. But because JD remained calm and did what he was told he wasn't harmed but it still is a weird situation to be put in. As far as the whole "Isn't this area nicer" Remark, i had a pig actually say that to me when he had stopped me and asked me where i was originally from. The scene with Zeke was meant to be funny at first but then take a serious turn for the worst.I also wanted to thank Zilla for the suggestion on what JD should major in and I found that this chapter was the one to introduce it in.

As for JD, i wanted to introduce some more Orange Grove characters and have a gang related shootout this time with Ballas but also have some of his suburban life shown. JJD does not have any romantic interests yet as he is still in mourning but with the introduction of female Orange Grove members there is that potential. Also, I will in the future start to show JD doing jobs for both his own hood the 52nd street OGF based on 52 Hoovers and the 83rd which would be 83 Hoover so it will be west and east side.

Now to the elephant in the room...that lemon lol. Is it fucked up yes. Did it disgust you it should that's the point. And that's one of my ways where Morgan is really more or at least just as fucked up and in a way, interesting as trevor Phillips. Trevor Phillips has admitted to actually sodomizing a man in prison, Michael said he tattooed a guy's ass in jail and he may have been joking but if not i mean you do that to a prison bitch and that's still a form of sexual abuse. It's branding.

Now as for whether or not you would consider necrophilia rape...I can see both sides of it. Legally, a dead person is just an object so it can't consent or oject but then nobody would really want to have their corpse diddled by some lunatic. So while it isn't exactly okay it's not exactly rape in he sense we usually think of but it is still desecreating and defiling the dead which in some states is a misdemeanor and depending on which state the degree of sentence differs. One of the psycological reasons why some people might be a necrophile is because of abandonment issues and that's something I will be exploring with Morgan's character and in a way we saw that with Seth from Red Dead Redemption and he was at least implied to be a necrophile. So the question I honestly want to ask all of you is this. What's worse a rape victim exclusivley or somebody who exclusivley does this to dead bodies not a live person (Though in this case did kill one of them?) And it's not like a dead person would usually have left a will to let a necrophile fuck them and even if they did, it would still be illegal.

As far as this happening, this will not be the first time it happens and I admit i intentionally tried to make it funny but hell so did Rockstar with Seth plus Donald Love from GTA. I will have a lot of scenarios for various victims that Morgan claims. But the sickening thing about him also will be that he will also have consensual sex with live people as well who are unaware of his little side hobby. Also, the little conversation between Morgan and his brothers shows he has a softer side not willing to have to kill one of his own brothers if the gang asked him unless one already did that and he would avenge the other but still it shows the three different gang members of the same family who each had different values and rationlizations for the idea of killing their own family members.

Also the Hot Rod Woods is based on the real life gang the Nazi Low Riders who used to be the key holder for the whiteinmates on the main yard in Cali prisons but that has since been a thing that Pen 1 does and for those of you that read this but not Concrete Jungle, Most Hated 1 or MH 1 is a replica of Pen1 that Zillla 2000 came up with. Hot Rod Woods was my own invention. Initially i was gonna just call them Surf Nazis since a lot of Neo Nazis surf but surfing is more something Pen 1 is known for and as far as lowriders well it's not the exact same but lowriders and hot rods are similar. If you want to know the difference, read Lowrider magazine's article on the differences between the two and the history for both.

As far as the Aryan Brotherhood's war with the NLR this happened for a time but then in 1999 they were validated as prison gang so since this is in 1996 for now that has three years of war we can get into.

As far as Hayako's moment in the store, he is aware that America is different from Japan but he still feels as Yakuza he should be respected and feared but what confuses him is the differences not only in how America is largely oblivious to Yakuza but also in Japan they don't really have guns where as in the west they could so these differences are kind of confusing to him an he's trying to keep track. Being that Hayak is also of that heritage that Suzuki mentioned as are most Yakuza, he has a resentment not only towards the American soldiers and tourists he encountered in his country but also towards mainstream Japanese society law abiding especially because of their discrimination against Burakumin.

Now onto OC's and inspirations.

Dina is visually inspired by Dawn Robinson from En Vogue

Naya is visually inspired by Maxine Jones from En Vogue

Diamond is visually based on Ms Roq, a short lived female rapper from the Dr. Dre 2001 Chronic album.

Slab is visually based on Dee Miller from the rap group Menace Clan while Gauge is visually based on Assasin from the same group.

Jacob was isually based on Christian Bale because in a documentary on Nuestra Familia, La Eme, BGF Aryan Brotherhood and NLR inmates, there was an NLR inmate who looked and sounded like Christian Bale and like him he had a Mexican American gf but he also said that there had been Filipino inmates who were members.

I decided that Loius Ozawa Changchien is the visual basis for Hayako since he played a Yakuza member in True Blood and he was also in Aliens Vs Predator.

Next chapter will feature Javier and he will have a violent encountter of his own. Also, Imala and her shootout with the Khans is based on an episode of Burn Notice where Fiona pretends to be a biker groupie to get into a biker gangs safe and the way in which Imala escaped is a reference to that as well. The man who claimed to have a Ho Chunk wife that was beaten is based on the right wing Trump tard knwn as Gavin Mcinnes who sadly yes does have a Native wife. She's not just a sellout to me because he's white but also because he is a trump supporter when our people have no reason to support either party and honestly, he made some pretty racist remarks in a video called Some Stereotpes About Native Americans Are True and he defended the mascots and the word redskins an said it isn't a slur.

The only thing accurate he really said was that Natives who are enrolled can get college (But so can white trust fund kids whose families have far more money than a Native tribe and i never had my college paid for i earned it) and a little bit of what he said about our population having health problems because we were exposed to sugar more recently than other races however he dismissed the idea that some of our poor health is due to shitty health care which is fucking also kept referring to reservations and casinos and etting checks despite the fact that 78% of Natives live in the city. So by doing that to him that was my revenge kind of like how Planet Terror and killing off Quentin Tarintino's character was actually revenge on Harvey Weinstein of a kind for raping Rose McGowan.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed if not well go fuck yourself I accept constructive criticism but flamers like that bible thumping idiot will be blocked and their reviews removed.

Until next time, enjoy your weekend.


	8. Family Is Everything

_Placasos y Putosos_

Javier sat at the breakfast table. It had been hard concealing from his mother what he had been up to. As far as she knew he was doing good looking for work and yet he had been shot in the ass. He told her he had worked a day labor job and had accidentally taken a nail from a nail gun in the ass. He had cleaned the wound and made sure to change it, however and made sure to keep it hidden as bes as he could. Even as he was staying with his mother and sister, he kept a cuete in his dresser. A Sig P226. That morning, he had heard the sound of a loud ranfla rolling down the street and he had peeked outside to see a dark blue lowrider rolling by and two men who were obviously either Vagos or Aztecas rolling by as he looked out the curtain. They hadn't seen him but the message was clear.

They didn't give a shit about the border between the south and northern side of San Andreas. So why would they stay in their respective sides of Garcia? He was for now eating chorizo and eggs with a tall glass of orange juice. The eggs had red and green peppers mixed in with them as well as onions. There was no bacon but there was really no need for it. He had missed his jefita's and Esmeralda sat at the table with him. "Extrañe a esta mamá. Llevo meses soñando con esto!" Javier said with a grin.

(I missed this mom. Been dreaming about this for months!)

Edna responded, "Sabes que nunca pasarás hambre mientras yo pueda alimentarte, mijito. Pero tal vez no te vayas esta vez."

(You know you'll never go hungry as long as I can feed you, mijito. But maybe don't run off this time.)

"Mama, that's not fair. You got Emmy here. She always helps. I was just trying to do the right thing for our country."

"But we didn't see you much even when you were home! Even when you were away on leave I knew you would have to leave again...I just don't think I could take you leaving us again..."

"I won't mama...but I wanted to make you proud that's why I went to college. I got it..." He showed her his diploma.

She beamed with pride. "Aye...mi angelito! You really did it!" Esmeralda asked, "So now that you got it, what do you want to do with it?"

"Honestly? I always liked cars. I think I want to start my own mechanic shop. But not even just that. I don't just want to fix them. I think I may want to build them some day. Make one of my own que no?" Esmeralda chuckled. "Well good luck with that. These last few years some rich cabron has been buying up properties all over the city. Xoomer Garage, Wang's Automobiles...he started off being a ghetto boy from LS. Made his way though. He also ended up making moves in Liberty City too."

"Xooner Garage? I was gonna see if that was for sale! Some mute was the one running it before. I don't have all the money in the world but I was gonna buy it!"

"No business at the table, please!" Stated Edna. She then asked Javier, "Mijo when was the last time you went to Mass? I can see you take good care of yourself but we have to watch out for our souls too."

"I promise I'll go on Sunday..."

"Aye dios mio! Mass is Friday. Have you forgotten? Don't be a lapsed Catholic. You don't want to end up in Purgatory!"

"That neighborhood in Liberty City? You're right mama. I don't wanna be near there..." She back handed him. "This is serious, cabroncito! i love you but your soul is not something you gamble with. I want us all toi be together with your papa some day, entiendes?"

He sighed. "Si mama.. I'll go this friday. Pero, why do you say purgatory and not hell? Why don't you think I would go there?"

"Because you're a good boy, mijito. You're just flawed but even the best souls are flawed."

Javier didn't agree. He believed he would go to hell. It was good old fashioned Catholic guilt or maybe just guilt that pre dated the church. If killing was a primal thing, so too was the weight of the life you had taken afterwards. He felt direct responsibility for what he had done to the Vagos but it was unavoidable. However, he had no real reason to have fought the Iraqi people. They had a dictator, sure but this was their business and there was no reason the surrounding Arab countries didn't just take him out rather than relying on the west to do it.

He finished in silence and then got ready to go outside. He put on a white wife beater and a brown plaid flannel jacket. He had a brown bandanna and he tied that on. He hopped out of the window after grabbing his P226. El Cazo was nearby. He was smoking a joint and he had glassy red eyes. He wore a 69ers jersey that was bright red with the number 11 on it.

'"Que onda, carnal. Where you been at?" He asked. "Inside mi canton. Eating breakfast. Por que?"

"Shit is that chorizo con juevos I smell, ene? Fuck eh I hope your jefita saved me a plate."

"Chale. You know she doesn't like pandilleros in her house."

"Yet she's got one for a son? Speaking of which why aint you in colors, fool? What's with the brown pano? You too ashamed to rock the red and aqua?"

"I didn't say that, stupid. It's just that I'm playing it smart. It's one thing to dress how I want around here but I aint gonna be walking around my varrio with red on. I'll save that for if I'm on a mission catching anybody else sleeping but in my own turf? I choose not to have a big red target on my forehead."

He shook his head. "That right, Yeska? Well let me show you something..." He took him to the corner and directed him to a gold hitup. It said, Varrio 19th Street.

"These sewer rats made themselves a target here. Hitting up in our neighborhood? Chale, wey...them bitches gotta pay for that. At the very least we gots to go in their turf and do a hit up."

Just then, Scar and Hueso showed up too. Scar had a brown bag bottle of cheap wine while Hueso was smoking a Redwood. Hueso wore a white long t shirt and starched brown khakis plus a pair of aqua blue Eris high tops. Scar wore a darker red flannel jacket, a hair net and baggy black dickies. Hueso blew smoke. "Fuckin Va ho's. We'll show them what's up ...what do you say? You up to do a placa in their hood?"

He knew the peer pressure was on. _Fuck man, I thought I left this shit behind in High School. Guess not...leaving and coming home after so long might as well really be a pee wee._ He stated, "Fuck it. Let's do it."

"I told you this vato didn't lose heart, man!" Scar said. He handed him a paint can. "Yeah, you already had your juevos for breakfast now go earn em on the street, perro! We'll give you a ride..." They climbed into a robin egg and white Glendale and Cazo handed him a .45 Magnum. Specifically , a Ruger Redhawk. "The fuck you giving me this for?!" Demanded Javier. "I'm not a cowboy in a Vinewood flick and I aint some Detective in a pinche cop drama in 1982 either. I got a Sig..."

"Yeah but that shit is for self defense in your casa, homes..Scar stated. "You don't wanna use that for this. A .45 though? That's what the veteranos were using back in the day. Back when it was just hoods and cliquas and it wasn't all this Rifa and Azteca hype on the street. We're talking old school pachucos, eh! Back when Garcia had vatos in Zoot Suits and ranflas. We're talking 72' and before that. We had pedo before but we used to settle shit with fists then it was zip guns. Then it was Revolvers. Now things changed. There's no skill in spraying a Tec. With a Revolver you actually gotta aim."

"Si mon. Those scrapas can't shoot for shit, homie..." Stated Cazo "When;'s the last time you ever heard of a Rifa hitting somebody accidentally?"

Hueso added, "The way I see it bro...all these other cliquas, man...they were already our enemies before this shit from the pen kicked off into the streets. Used to be, you or me we're from 24. We go inside and we'd be north side Raza. And it'd be the same shit for other varrios we got pedo with. Beef on the street carnales inside and it could have been that way with 16th street and 19th street they could have been carnales with us inside but they decided to be Vagos and Aztecas..."

He took a puff of the cigarette again and said, "They always been our enemies, homie. But now cause of the shit from the pen it's a whole other level. Them Va Ho's and Ass Suckers they don't have to put up with that shit in Hell. S. They don't have Rifas down there that used to just be varrios."

"They got Maravillosos though and they aint bowing down to Onda..." Replied Javier.

"Orale . And they're probably the one varrio I'd work with down there. They're proud to be green light by them putos. But I'm saying they just are independent. It aint like we got varrios down there even though we got vatos that were from LS that started Nuestra Syndicato..."

"Yeah but it's too late for that homie..." Stated Scar. "We could have been one big familia but those cabeza rapado putos wanted to pick on vatos from up north. This shit is their fault."

"Yeah, but they did try and extend an olive branch, right?" Asked javier. "Back in the 70's trying to get a truce after four years of war."

"Man, fuck them lames. That white boy in their cliqua he fucked that all up so did other Sewer Rats on the tier. Besides even if their big homie was serious about that shit and all, so what? You ask me it takes a ruthless vato to stick a motherfucker who wants peace. Them scrapas were winning back then and they still wanted a truce? Back the we didn't have the organization that we dp now with gente like Rafa, man. They were winning and they still punked out. Or that puto of theirs the first one to drop out in fact he beat a case for killing some Rifas in Pottersfield and he still dropped out when he didn't have to."

"Speaking of white boys...you know that fool from Ohlone you been chilling with right? He's got one in his fuckin clique. Juero Stein."

"No, I aint been back in years remember? I don't know who all is who anymore."

"It's one thing to let morenos y morenas roll for the hood, homie. But letting a gavacho in? It's like we're no better than scrapas but that's how they do it in the East bay i guess..." Stated Scar.

"Why is it different? I mean I don't remember none of them being down for the varrio but what you think they won't throw down? i was in the Army man and there was people of every raza man. We all had to be down for each other."

"Look, the comaradas in the campesino causa didn't bust their asses on the picket lines trying to combat white boys trying to keep us down for us to just let them kick it on our side."

"Fuck are you talking about, homie? The United Farm Workers worked with sympathetic gueros too..." Stated Javier. "Javi, why you acting like a little bitch, homes? These putos don't live in our hood but they come in trying to gentrify it."

Hueso didn't agree. "Nah, Guero Stein is from that varrio though he really grew up on 51st. I guess his family never caught the white flight red light to suburbia. He's cool, eh. He had the balls to tell the Aryan Vanguard to fuck themselves when he was inside too. Caught a shiv in his ribs for it. If the BGA can have white soldados and the AV has Jewish vatos why can't we?"

"We don't need em, pues..." Replied Scar. "Well fuck what you think, man and even Wino does business with them fools from 51st and we're going over there after we handle business here homie...or after Yeska handles shit that is..."

They dropped him off and he got out spotting a 19th street tag in Turquoise and yellow. The word **Varrio** in gold while the word **Calle** **Diecinueve** was in the light blue color. He crossed the tag out and put in bright red, **Calle** **Veinticuatro.**

"Orale!" Applauded Scar. "That's right homie. Throw that 24 sign on these punks. We're taking over their varrio. Putos can't kick dust shit..."

He got in the car and said, "Fuck it. Take me over to 18th street."

"Que?" El Cazo asked. "What for, dog?"

"We're gonna teach the Aztecas a lesson in respect too, bro. You didn't see those VLA bitches tagged up a dumpster? It got crossed out by a pee wee I saw it but still."

"Shit when we get back to the hood you'll have to point it out. If that hermanito hasn't has his first beer or piece of pussy he will tonight. On me..." Stated El Cazo. "Chingada, bro...we already got these Va Ho's coming in here with their gold and blue like this is their hood. And you got those Salvadoran Mara Cucas. But now every city every varrio in the Norte we're gonna have to keep a trucha on any place that's got a 18th street, man! Otherwise these sewer ratas are gonna sneak in just like their fuckin paisa parents and shit..."

"Shit, I believe you that they tagged up a dumpster though, J..." Stated El Hueso. "Cause ratas don't wanna give up their own que no?! They wanna claim every dumpster too not just the 18 street signs. I think the dumpster means more, eh! Cause the dumpsters don't have their varrio numbers on it. They wanna make sure no fuckin homeless bums get to it first!"

They pulled up to 18th street and went down a back alley. "All right, loco...this is all you, bro. You wanted it. Make us proud!" Scar told him. Javier put his hood on his sweater up. The tag this time had the Roman numerals in dark blue and turquoise, the colors of the Aztecas. **XVIII**

He crossed it out and replaced it with bold red letters.

 **XXIV.**

He shook the spray can and began tagging it more so this time putting the same tag as before on 19th street. But he also spotted a tag that said **VLA** in dark blue. He crossed that out too and put an **AK** for Aztec Killer. He ran out of paint for the can once that happened and suddenly he heard footsteps. Three Aztecas. Meanwhile, Cazo and the other Rifas had pulled the car around to the other side of the alley. "Hey what the fuck are you doing ese?!" Demanded an Azteca, a dark skinned man originally from Zacatecas who wore a dark blue plain cap on backwards and he wore a black plaid shirt and he wore a dark blue bandanna around his neck. He stood 5'8 but with strength he shoved Javier to the ground. "You got a fuckin death wish? You think that shit's funny crossing us out?"

"Hey, Armando look what this bitch wrote...he..."

Javier stood up, with the .45 cocked. "24th Street Rifas!" He said before turning around squeezing the trigger hitting Armando at point blank in the stomach. He watched as the Azteca clutched at his wound hopelessly falling to the ground. The other Azteca had a 9mm which he had already started to draw when he saw the enemy tag but Javier was faster. He hit him twice in the chest and the gang member fell over as his crisp white t shirt pooled red with blood and his pistol clattered noisily on the ground splashing in the puddle.

The other Azteca, a light brown skinned man with a shaved head and a dark blue bandann around his head, a white wife beater with a turquoise button up plaid shirt and gray khakis tried to tackle Javier for his gun. Javier fought him off hitting him with a right hook. He busted his nose and got the grip on the gun just as the Azteca took off running. "I aint strapped, ese! I'm on probation!"

"Should have thought of that before!" Javier called out firing a shot at his feet and he missed narrowly but the next shot hit him in the right butt cheek at about twenty five yards and as he fell over Javier fired again hitting him in the pit of the back of his leg. The gangster crawled wounded leaving a trail of blood behind him. Though he didn't say it, Javier was somewhat glad he ran out of bullets. He was willing to fight gang bangers from the other side no problem but killing an unarmed man to him felt like a punk move.

They tore up the street. "Orale! You call your jefita tonight! Tell her you're working late or something cause this jale we about to do? It's good pay, bro..." Stated Cazo. "What's the job anyway? Wino's fat ass is the one that set it all up right?" Javier asked.

"Yeah but you know it is he's laid up in the hospital with that busted leg don't be a hater... anyway the shit that they got going on is some local small time bitch ass crew...they're moving weight just down the block from them and they aint kicked up their dues man. They gotta understand they kick it in a Rifa hood they gotta pay, man. And on some real shit...these last few years have been hard as fuck trying to earn bread on these streets. Both the east bay and west bay..." Stated Hueso.

"Why what happened? Is that cause of that shit with Loco Syndicate?" Javier asked.

"Yeah. A lot of carnales died behind that shit, Ene..." Stated Scar. "That pimp Jizzy? He might have been made out like he was all about Fierro but the truth is he had side shit going on in Ohlone too. Anybody that's anybody knows you wanna be a real pimp Ohlone is where it's at. The bitches are freakier out there..."

'"I'll take your word for it on both fronts, hermano..." Javier stated. "I aint a trick and I don't like pimps. That's one thing I never liked about the East Bay. They glorify that shit too much."

"Yeah but don't act like the carnales don't get in on that shit in Garcia too cause you know it happens. And as far as Rafa well...he gets his dues from it either way."

"I aint ever working with or for any pimps. I got a mother and a sister, man. Everybody don't got a sister but we all got moms. And those pimp motherfuckas would feel differently if it was their own family getting turned out. I got love for the East Bay but if they ever get mixed up with that shit around me I'll cut ties to them."

"So you wouldn't have worked with Jizzy?" Demanded El Cazo in disbelief. "No matter how much of a fat knot you made from it? Cause that motherfucker got paid and he had a nice place up in Eastern Basin and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't digging some of those sucias in there."

"What part of no do youx not understand, pendejo? Mirate, I been outta town a while, I know that right? And suddenly cause of where he ended up baby brother is now looked at as the big brother. Even for me cause he's bigger than me now. But tu sabes? I still got a say in who I do business with and I don't give a fuck who it is. They could be scrapas, Paisas or even another Ixpolero. I see a pimp in my neighborhood they're going down."

They continued to drive.

 _Last Meal_

JD got a knock on his door. It was O Loc. Though he had been going to class he hadn't felt safe staying out there. Even though he knew he could get shot out in these streets, he could also get arrested by the one time and even just from the shit he was doing around here he felt that he might get caught and arrested in front of his school mates for the shit he was doing in South Central. In truth, that was one of his worst fears. He didn't know what it stemmed from. A desire to prove stereotypes about young blacks wrong? Some in his own hood might accuse him of self hate for that but his grandparents had tried to steer him right and his parents had steered him wrong.

"Hey nigga...i know where those marks that killed Tyree be at. You down with a 187?" JD slapped hands with the younger gang member. "Let's do this..."

O Loc had a stolen sunset colored Greenwood. As usual, O Loc was packing his favorite, the Remington 1100 plus his Glock 19. Dimebag was waiting in the car in the back seat. "Hey homie...where's Stick at? Usually it's the four of us rolling in the cut..." Stated JD. "Not today, g. Stick is passed out. Hitting the sherm too damn much with his dumb ass. Nah, we going through to scoop up the homie."

JD knew exactly who he was talking about. They were pulling up in the stolen beige '63 Savanah and their homie Lil Ice got in the car. Lil Ice was a dark skinned black male with a jherri curl that had previously been dreadlocks and many people often when they weren't mistaking him for Dimebag when both wore Loc Down sunglasses, they often instead thought they were brothers. Both denied this all though Dimebag admitted to not knowing who his father was while Lil Ice had a picture of his father from his days as a gangster from Orange Grove in the 70's but Lil Ice's father had been killed when he was still a toddler. One of the early casualties of their war with the Ballas back when the Groves all still considered themselves Families while many now didn't but the 52nd street Orange Groves still did.

In some ways, JD was glad for this knowing they didnn't drp the Families from their name and yet still were cool with other Grove sets even while these Grove sets that dropped the Families and no longger ever wore green were enemies with the Families.

"Hey homie where these bitches staying at?" Demanded JD. As they drove the radio was on the funk station and the song Ooh Baby Baby by Smokey Robinson & The Miracles played.

"It aint about where they staying at, loc. It's about where they kicking it at, fool..." Stated Dimebag as he took a hit off the blunt that O Loc had rolled up. "Whatever, nigga you knew what I meant. I just wanna know how deep into Ballas turf we going."

"What you scared, nigga? Man I told you going up to that school done turned our boy into a mark..."

"Hey at least I finished school, punk! When the fuck your ass sit in a classroom? Name the last time that shit happened."

"Shit nigga, must have been what, '93 maybe '94. I'm proud of it too. They aint teaching nothing I can use."

"How would you know if you don't go?" Asked JD. "I don't know..." O Loc said. "They teach you how to pull gats on motherfuckers and stomp old ass people out? They teach you that at University of LS?"

"Nah cause you know I aint no mark, Loc. But don't try and play me out just cause I'm trying to get an education. I might not make it in the white man's world but the way I look at it, i got my hands in the straight world and the crooked world. Between the two of them, I'm bound to come up from one."

O Loc cackled. "Yeah nigga till they throw the irom bracelets on your black ass in front of all those blonde beach bunnies and white boys on Greek Row. How you gonna play beer pong from the county, man? Then your ass be so embarrassed you blush when you realize you just another NIGGA and it don;t matter what the fuck you know or what dorm you stay at, Grove! And you know what all them will say will they see your ass getting patted down by the one time? They think 'oh shit. We better get ourselves another token so we meet our quota. Maybe next time we'll get a nigga raised in the suburbs' that's what the fuck gonna happen."

JD sneered getting bold and he declined the blunt when Dime tried to pass it. "Yeah nigga? Well I'm a smarter motherfuckin criminal than you. Know why? Can't really explain all that dirty money to the IRS. The smartest motherfuckers in the game got day jobs to clean that shit. You know why fools from South Central aint making it big like them Mafioso back east or the Ese's out in Murietta Heights with their own mob money and cartel connects?"

"Man, fuck that. Them nethead motherfuckers aint got it no better than niggas they don't got this game locked down any tighter than we do."

"Then you blind, cuz. Just take a look around. They been staying out in Davis, they been in Rancho too it aint just the East Side. You got them in Vespucci Beach. You even goy Vago cliques outta Strawberry."

"Not no Aztecas..." Dimebag said. "They stay running and dying."

"It aint any shit we did fool. "

"Man you sound just like that nigga Sadiq, man. He on that soul brother shit. What you trying to get niggas together for better organized crime?"

"I aint say all that but South Central could be a lot better than it's been. We could have some Five Families Commission type of shit out here if we really wanted to. At the very least think bigger clean your money up. You see why we're getting yanked off the streets by the pigs. We got neon sign on us saying arrest me! I aint with that shit. I keep my nose clean. Maybe I'm trying to just at least own a titty bar at least clean up my bread..."

O Loc and Dimebag chuckled as they pulled up to pick their friend up. "So you can sample all that good pussy before they get to shaking on stage, right? Shit you might be onto something there..." Dime said.

Lil Ice finally spoke up too. "Hey, loc aint nothing ever wrong about trying to be a little more organized. I mean who the fuck is gonna argue with progress? Them niggas up in North Holland had it made in the 60's and 70's. They sorta had it on lock in the 30's up to the 60's too under a different cat. But by teh 80's and 90's shit fell apart again and it was chaos again just like out here, man."

"Yeah, for real..." Stated JD. "This is how you want it? Everybody blasting and nobody really coming up? If i'm busting them thangs i'd rather it be for a reason and have a payoff."

They finally pulled up and the song The Loc Is On His Own by Jayo Felony blasted on Radio Los Santos. Dimebag put his AK-47 together while Lil Ice had his .50 Magnum read. They parked across the street at the Lou's Drive In burger joint. "Hit the lights, nigga!" Growled Dime. "

JD and O Loc slid on their baklavas and JD cocked the slide back on his 9mm while O loc racked the shotty. "Goddamn..." Lil Ice whispered as he took the wheel. "There's like eleven of them bitches, dude!" Dime sneered. "Fo 's why I got two motherfuckin Banana clips. Now let's ride on these bitches. We gotta be coordinated with our shit."

Two Ballas stood at the caged window harassing a yellow complexioned African American woman in a light blue blouse. One of them was a darker skinned black male in a beanie with a maroon sweater and white khakis while the other wore a brown plaid jacket and sunglasses. "I'm saying, Dena why don't you hook us up with something to eat?!"

"I been hooking ya'll up fifty fuckin times I'm tired of hooking ya;ll sorry asses up. Maybe if you get a job you could pay for some of this shit and quit begging."

"Begging?!" The darker skinned one growled. "Who you saying begging?!"

"You, nigga!"

"Look take yo big earring ass and get us something to eat..." Stated the other Baller that was shorter and somewhat resembled Eazy E. "Fuck..." She said. "And fuck you..." She said flipping both Ballas off. "Man, don't make me come back there and beat your ass!" Growled the Baller in maroon. JD and O Loc creeped around the side of the building. "I'm saying why every time a sista get a job some place niggas think I owe them a hook up just cause we the same color?!"

"Man, why don't we just go see what's up in moms crib, man we don't need this shit..."

"Go home to ya mammies, okay?!"

They came around the corner and O Loc barked, "Yeah nigga break it on down fool!" He hammered the trigger and the man with the brown jacket's guts were blasted all over the pickup window. "What now?!" JD fired with one hand but with the pistol right side up letting off seven shots. Three of them hit the larger Baller in the back.

He staggered as they gave chase and the woman kept screaming. "BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE WE BLAST YO ASS TOO SHUT UP!" Roared O Loc. JD ran after the wounded gangster but Lil Ice came up asking "Hey homie you need some help?" He came oup and pressed the barrel of his .50 to his stomach and pulled the trigger and a sickening splat sounded as the round hit soft black flesh and he let off the rest of the magazine into the falling rival. "PUNK ASS NIGGA! COME ON, NIGGAS!"

At the same time that JD and O Loc had been creeping up and right as the shooting had started to go off, Lil Ice had still been driving in the car and Dime rolled up on the unsuspecting Ballas. The man who had been the neighborhood sniper was chilling and eating with a couple of his homies. He had a tall cup of Sprunk and a double bacon cheeseburger and french fries which he dipped in tartar sauce.

A Baller with a shaved head and light skin wearing a white crisp t shirt and baggy black jeans said, "Damn, blood you need to get a haircut man shit is looking like some shit from 1983."

"Aint no way I'm letting no clippers near my hair. I'm like Sampson my strength is in my hair."

"Why the fuck you gotta dip it in that nasty ass white sauce, dog?! Aint you ever heard of ketchup?" Asked a Baller with cornrows wearing a burgandy plaid button up shirt and blue jeans.

"Why you worried about it, fool? These MY FRIES."

"So what's up, we going to see your girl or what?"

"N..." The sniper said. "I'M going home to see my girl you going home with this punk."

"Hey on the real though, Junior and Dookie over there begging homegirl again..." Said the bald gang member. "Shit is an embarrassment. Slinging all tjhat shit in the hood all them hoo rides and they still can't afford a motherfuckin burger? I mean I'd understand if one of em was fucking her then she'd pretty much owe them that shit but that aint what's going on."

The sniper shook his head. "Don't even do it, Damon. Aint worth it. Them niggas are grown men how the fuck you owe them a damn thing? Now if I was to pay for all this shit here I know you good for it. And you KNOW I'm always good for it. But you start shelling out duckets for them bum ass niggas, you just enabling them. See in teh Army they taught us all about discipline and responsibility."

"So? They from the same set, man. Better I just buy them niggas a burger then have them start some shit and get us all kicked from around here or worse yet catch a case for wiling out."

"Yo, check that motherfucker out..." The man with the cornrows said suddenly noticing the car watching them and with the screech of tires as the car accelerated they knew they were in for trouble. They heard shots elsewhere and didn't know where it was coming from. They could only focus on the trouble they had to deal with.

The 7.62 rounds hit all three of the fleeing Ballas in the back. They fell like dominoes. Lil Ice got out of the car and fired a single shot into the back of the dying man with cornrows who had five rounds in his back. The bald one had caught seven in the back including the spine and was not moving. The neighborhood sniper was still crawling. Lil Ice was about to put one in the back of his skull when he noticed that a wounded Baller was crawling his way after the mess that JD and O Loc had made.

After he had emptied what remained of his .50 into the wounded Baller, he cursed himself having used all the rounds in the heat of the moment but JD ran up to teh sniper himself since he didn't get to kill the first man he shot. JD stood over the dying sniper. "Hey you remember me, bitch?! Yeah...all that sniper school training didn't amount to shit out here, huh?"

He aimed his Beretta and fired two shots into his back before he could answer. Blood spilled from his lips like a red river and somehow the color reminded him of the burgandy he was wearing and he angri!y pulled the trigger again sending another into his right ear drum. The next round took his ear lobe off and his gold hoop earring with it. Another round hit the back of his head and JD's eyes widened as the Baller's hair was ablaze from the jherri curl juice. "Flame on! Till that jherri curl is gone!" Barked O Loc with a sadistic grin. "Damn, nigga you got me wanting to try that shit next time...

Lil Ice whistled as the stench filled their nostrils, "Fuck,remind me to cut my shit natural."

They all retreated soon after in the lowrider. Dime told them, "Hey ya'll did good out there homies. Yo JD I got a surprise for you, G. I'm gonna be introducing you to Highway."

"Who the fuck is Highway?" Demanded the dark skinned 52nd street gang member.

"You want the niggas that killed your girl right? This cat is a real high roller. i'm talking a millionaire man and he came up on these streets and he's our plug, man. So next week i'ma need you to roll with me to get him cause this nigga knows all the dudes that matter and if anybody can find out where that buster that laid her out is at, it's him."

"It was two of them..." JD fumed. "I want the driver too. He's just as guilty."

"Hey that's all good, man. It don't matter if it's four of em. I'm telling you. Highway is the man. We start working with him we scratch his back he scratch ours but I'm telling you, J...his scratches be a lot better than yours or mine."

San Fierro

Yay Area

They went across the Gant Bridge with the radio on Playback FM and the song Smoke by Kid Frost played. "Hey..." Hueso said softly. "Lil Loca's funeral is on monday, bro. We need to go pay our respects."

"I'll get a suit..." Javier said. "Yeah?" He asked. "What about your moms,man? What if she sweats you going to a gang funeral?"

"Bro, get off my nuts, man. I went to the Army she didn't like that either. No mother does but I'm a grown man. I went to college too. And I fucked a lot of chongas down there in Vice City you know what a chonga is? They're like cholas but from South Florida and they could be from anywhere not just Chicana we're talking anywhere in Latin America I saw Colombianas down there, Bolivians, Hondurans, and my mom wouldn't appreciate any one of them bouncing up and down on me. Cause they're not the kinda women you bring home to mom. Besides, Lil Loca was a friend before any of us got down with la vida loca."

"Well you probably shouldn't let her or Esmeralda go to the funeral, bro. You don't want to take that chance with your own sangre..." Stated Cazo.

"You're probably right. I'll have to think on that one cause I damn sure don't want any Va Ho's taking shots at them."

"So now they're Va Ho's, eh? You're not a fence rider no more?" Challenged Scar.

"Bitch you just saw me lay down three of them. You didn't do shit but sit in the car on your ass. I still think the war is stupid. I do hope we see peace between La Raza someday but they took it too far shooting Lil Loca that's my homegirl."

"Everybody in any gang is somebody's homegirl..." Stated Cazo. "We've probably shot any number of theirs. As a matter of fact, I'll bet you we've even shot one of those scrapa bitches and she prpbably had the same placa, man. It's just one of those coincidences when you're both Mexican American. Well...we're real ones that is. They're some white washed fuckers."

"I don't see it that way..." Stated Javier. "We're both Raza. Neither one of us is more white washed than the other. So a lot of us don't speak Spanish. So? We're farther from the border and I speak it but sabes que the original Mexicas didn't speak none of that. And yeah the Va Ho's are foul for hating on hermanos that worked on farms while they lived in big cities but we live in a big city too. We got paisas for parents and they got farmers for parents. I'm not excusing what they did. I'm only saying we aint as different as we think..." Yeska wasn't going to try and reason with the homeboys either that the fact that he mentioned they might have a Lil Loca on the other side showed a sense of self awareness.

"Well a truce aint never gonna happen with us and them putos. We don't want it and they don't want it..." Spat Hueso.

"But you'll defend a white Rifa?"

"Now you're starting on this shit too?" Hueso said. "You haven't even met the homie and Filo aint gonna be cool with you ripping on him."

"I'm not saying other people can't be down for the North Side causa I'm just saying that for all our talk of scrapas being bitches for being allied with the Aryans inside, it kind of makes us look stupid when we got white boys in our clique. It aint a racist thing, man they just got their own cliques. Why do they always wanna try and join our shit or the morenos, man?"

"Really, he acts more lik a moreno than one of us, man. He really only speaks on that scrapa shit cause he still knows at heart we all Rifas but tu sabes que? Them East Ohlone boys got a completely different steelo..." Explained Hueso.

They pulled up to the spot and Javier spotted El Filio smoking a joint and tossing it as he finished it. He was wearing a red and white flannel button up over a white wife beater and black khakis and he had a .45 tucked in his waistband. With him were two more Chicanos, plus a Chicana and a white and a black guy. The white guy had reddish brown hair and a goatee and he stood about 5'9 scrawny in frame and he wore a red 69ers jersey and baggy black jeans. His name was Bert "Guero Stein" Rothstein. Many people thought he was a Jew because of his surname but he was always saying how that didn't always mean Jewish heritage.

The black guy had long black hair tied back in a ponytail and dark skin and his own flannel was brown but he was sure enough part of 51st street too. He stood 5'11. His street name was Cartoon but people just called him Toon for short.

Next was the homegirl. She was a mix of Chicana, Cuban and Venezuelan heritage. Her street placa was Cora short for Corazon.

"Q vo, homies..." Hueso said slapping hands with each of them and hugging Cora. Javier suspected that Cora had casual sex with not only the white boy and Cartoon but also Filo and possibly Hueso too. Cazo and Scar also did the same but sneered and left Guero Stein hanging. Javier was introduced to him by Filo anyway. Javier didn't shake his hand but he did nod at him. Juero Stein just shrugged. "Man, don't be rude, Cazo, Scar, man. This dude's cool..." Stated Cartoon. "He's our brother."

"Chale, homes..." Stated Cazo shaking his head. "He aint my carnal."

"Hey you don't know me, homie...you don't know what i done did to earn my stripes on these streets."

"We DO know, fool..." Stated Scar. "We don't don't care. You aint nada but a crash dummy and you know what they say about them. When they're done, throw em out."

"Yeah...it don't snow in Ohlone...does a white boy get a 51st street tattoo? No! He don't!" Growled Cazo. "Man ya'll need to chill with that bullshit we aint here to fight among ourselves..." Filo said. "And you vatos need to leave that attitude at the bridge you aint better than none of us over here we all Rifas. Now we asked you out here cause we respect ya but if you're gonna disrespect us..."

"Don't worry about it, Filo. Me, I just don't know this fool, homes. And maybe he has nothing to prove to you but we aint from the same varrio so it aint the same to me. I'm just here to work not make friends."

The other two Chicanos consisted of one who had a shaved head and a handle bar mustache and caramel colored skin and an angry glare to his face and he wore a white t shirt and plain creased up beige khakis He was in decent enough shape The other looked somewhat like him but overweight wearing a black shirt and he wore black dickies. "That's the homeboy Casper..." He said referring to the first one. "And that's Duke..." He said about the fat one.

Casper had a Tec 9 and Duke had a Remington 870. Cartoon had an Uzi and Guero had a Remington 1100. Cora had a Mac-10. "So what's the deal with these fuckers you got pedo with, Filo?"

"You mean besides the sewer ratas homie? We got some fools thinking they're gonna be starting up their own thing without cutting us in."

"Yeah...these fools got themselves a cook spot in the hood. We told them this shit had to stop but we got into it with them at one of their parties and one of them pulled a cuete and shot my perro Snipes, man. We've had three shootouts with them so far but they're like rats, bro."

"How many of them are there?" Asked Javier. "Maybe I can put an end to them once and for all. We stopped Saddam. We can handle a few off brand chavalas."

"Fo sho! That's why we're all mobbing up on these fools..." Stated Filo. "We gotta let them know they disrespect us thinking they can just move shit under our nose we got another thing coming. The whole varrio's coming down on em."

"That's right..." Cartoon said. "We gotta show them a lesson in respect. And I aint even saying they're gonna live to learn it. They can take that shit to hell, homes."

"All right so where are they slinging at?"

"i thought we'd send you in. Do a little recon. See it aint enough knowing where they sling or even where their stash spot is. I want them taken out at the source..." Explained Filo. "Just to be on the safe side though take Casper, Cora and Duke."

They provided him with a gray Admiral while the others stayed with the Glendale. "So you were in Iraq, homes?" Asked Casper. "Fuck was that like?"

"It was a trip, man. You know a lot of people don't know what's going on out there. People were supporting the president on this shit but what they don't tell you is this country was backing Iraq up when they were fighting Iran. They're trying to pull the wool over our fuckin eyes! It was just like Vietnam except fuckers supported it. But it was over a lot sooner than Vietnam. I don't understand it at all. An unpopular war lasts what, ten years? But this shit was six months."

"So did you smoke anybody over there?"

"I shot people sure but I don't really know if I killed anybody. I got zero confirmed kills."

"Damn. Well I heard the Air Force did most of the damage out there anyway, right? I saw footage of the bombings. It was pretty fucked up..." Remarked Cora.

"Yeah and it was. That's true that happened but it's one thing to see pictures and news footage of burning oil and watching birds dying from the fumes and getting soaked by it when they crash land. It's another thing to smell it. You know when we did have to wear masks for some of that especially when there was mustard gas out there, I kept thinking, 'How is this happening?' I was thinking this is 1991 not 1918. But what can I say..." He added in a bitter tone, "I guess the true classics never die, eh?"

"Wasn't there women over there fighting?" Asked Cora.

"Yeah I mean this was the first war we've had in the states where women weren't just nurses, Ena. But there really wasn't a lot of fighting going on. The Air Force fought more than the Marines and the Marines more than us. And really the Marines didn't even fight that much it seemed like so it was really mostly just the Air Force."

"That's kind of fucked up, man. Solderadas were fighting against the government alongside Zapata back in the 1910's and this country only just started. And they look at Mexico as less advanced than the US."

"Mija it fuckin is..." Stated Casper. "Maybe not in that way but you're also Cuban and Venezuealan. They don't even got new cars in Cuba and Venezuela...Hugo Chavez is fucking that place up. All three bloodlines in you you wouldn't be in the states if it wasn't better..." Stated Casper.

"Man, new cars are gay, dude..." Replied Duke. "People can say what they want about Cuba they got a lot of problems but you will never hear me complaining about the cars they got there. You ask me time froze there about where it should have cause the cars I see people riding in now look like plastic!"

"Yeah that's Northern San An steelo. Maybe the one thing we got in common with the V Holes..." Javier said. "We love our ranflas."

"They might now lowride but they love the same kinda cars down south..." Cora said. "Cartoon was telling me about it. If I was to go down south and look at the big time hustlers rides do you think we'd see more people whipping in a '64 Savannah or something like that or driving an Infernus or a Cheetah? The only bitches not on the level is those lames in Liberty City."

They pulled up to the block on 50th street. "Keep the car running. It's quicker if I do this shit myself but if I need any of you, come running. I'll whistle..." He hopped out of the ride and spotted a couple of men, one Chicano and one black. The black guy was in a white wife beater and his forehead was sweaty. He had gold teeth in his mouth and his long black hair was in French braids. The Chicano wore a dirty gray hooded sweater and had light brown skin. "These motherfuckas aint got shit for money, man. Shit is deader than a motherfucker out here,mane..." Stated French braids.

The sweater replied, "Hey man...you think we should be drinking beer while we're on the grind?" They both had beer cans in brown bags. "Why not? We aint the only niggas posted in the hood with a drank."

"Yeah but if the one time rolls up...even though we aint got shit on us and they don't know where the stash is, the open containers gives them probably cause, doggy. I aint trying to get jammed up over that..."

He tossed the beer can in a nearby trash can. "What you aint never heard of those cats in fancy ass offices sipping Vodka out they water bottle?"

"Shit you know this aint the same. And if the rollers pull up they got all the probable cause to smack us around."

"The Rollers..." Javier said, "Or somebody a lot worse..."

He approached them from the side and the Chicano went for his pistol a Browing with 13 rounds but before he could grab it, Javier brough his right elbow down on his extended arm while his left grabbed his arm and he broke his arm in two places with a sickening snap. He took the pistol and he put the Mexican drug dealer in a headlock while pointing his gun at French braids. "I'm not the Ohlone Police Department. I don't read you your Miranda rights. I ask and you answer. If you don't answer..." He waved the pistol. "He will."

The black gangster had a .45 automatic in his wistband. "Don't even think about it..." Javier said almost as if to read his mind. "Where's the stash? I know you pendejos got a re-up around here."

"Man, shit...the stash is that house non the right, dog. The big brown one with the dark blue Admiral in it."

"Got any ideas who supplies them?"

"Nah, man. We just corner boys. We trying to make bread to survive, baby. It's hard out here."

"I don't wanna hear that. Besides, you gotta know something."

"I think it's either some Mexican or Colombian cats down the docks."

"Which is it? Mexican or Colombian?"

"Man, how I'm supposed to know?"

Javier shoved the sweater forward and said, "You're right. You don't know nothing..." He fired shooting the man with the broken arm in the back of the head. "You only get to live because you were more open. You get to spread the word. 51st has to be respected. Same with any Ohlone crews around here especially the Killa Dubs. As a matter of fact, I think you should go try yor luck selling for them."

With that, Javier got back in the car. The drug dealer withdrew his .45 and aimed it at Javier's back. "I can't just let you walk up outta here. You just killed my homie! You bitch!" The Rifas in the car aimed their weapons out the window. Javier smiled. "And what if I said you don't have a choice? You could probably get me. But they'd get you. You aint taking down four of us without some holes in you. I got shot in the ass in the last shootout I was in. It was no fun."

The man put the .45 back and sighed. "Smart choice. Go home. It's gonna get loud."

They took off down the street. "It's that house right there..." Five men came running outside of it with pistols in hand. Three were black and two were Mexican. Casper, Duke and Cora opened fire on them. Duke wrecked a man with dreadlocks wearing a black t shirt and gray jeans standing at 5'10 hitting him in the left elbow. He fell over bleeding out as his sinews were ripped. Casper and Cora sprayed at the next four with Casper hitting one of the vatos in the chest and stomach and one of the ebony's in the throat and left eyeball. Cora hit the other man, a Paisa from Jalisco in the chest and back as he fell and the black male a man from the Westside of Ohlone who had moved to the east side took five in the stomach.

No sooner had they mowed down the five of them when Javier pulled the car up alongside the stash house where a few brown and black faces looked out. They fired spraying up the house. "51st street Rifa!" Roared Cora as she emptied the magazine. Javier took the pistol he had stolen and kicked the door in and and Duke came with him as the other two kept watch reloading in the car. Everybody in the house lay dead except a Mexican American woman with four rounds in her back.

Javier stood over her. "You have one chance to live. Tell me where you fuckers are getting supplied..."

Duke also barked at her. "Where is that puto Rodney at?! i know that fucker's not dead."

"He's...he's at the docks...meeting with some cartel motherfuckers..."

"Let's ice this bitch..." Duke said. "She could be lying."

"Chale. I'm a man of my word. Look...you can call 911. Whether you live or die is up to them. I wouldn't hold my breath though, hermana. You might bleed out before they get here. Maybe not though."

The curly haired Chicana cried out in pain. "There's fuckin guns...and drugs in the house...i do that...I go to prison..."

"It's either that or you die, bitch!" Duke growled. "Make a choice!"

"Nah you know what?" Javier smirked. "We'll ease your mind and take it all off your hands. That way you got nothing to worry about. Oh and hermana? Next time I won't be so merciful. I'm taking these cuetes so you don't think about trying to come back at us. We win today. We're dealing with those suppliers too. You fuck with 51st again, I aint gonna be so nice."

They rounded up all the guns they had in the house which added up to six Handguns and one shotgun. A .380 Stainless, a .50 Desert Eagle, a Glock 19, a .357 Colt Python and a .22 Handgun. The shotgun was a Benelli M3. Yeska checked how many shells were in the tubular magazine. "Only three vallas...man these idiots really are small time. I didn't see one automatic."

They pulled off by the transit station and Duke got out and paged Filo. "All right, now we head down to the docks. I guess they're all there right now waiting on that fool Rodney..."

As they drove past, Duke recognized a black male wearing a black and red tracksuit with a gold rope chain around his neck. "Hey homie pull over! There's that bitch right there!" He spotted the man and realized that he was pumping gas. He also put a gallon of gas into a jerry can. "Let's get this fucker..." Growled Cora. Javier aimed the shotgun at the man as they pulled up. "What's the number to the cartel cabron you're meeting up with?! We know you're his middle man between them and your street level hustlers!"

"What I'm supposed to be scared just cause you got a shotgun, motherfucka? You know who the fuck I am? We done been staying outta other niggas hoods. Why you think we aint been posted up on 51st? We stay outta the boundries of they hood. And they still tripping. But if you fuck with the cartel they finna take your head."

"It aint just Filo that wants your ass dead, homes! Pike wants your ass dead too cause your ass came around the 20's slinging. They ran your ass outta their hood too. You think you're gonna be big time just cause you work with the cartel? Think again."

"Homie I make 40 g's a week. You think you bitches can fuck with me?"

"Then where the fuck's your backup, faggot?!" Demanded Duke. "I look like I need to roll deep like you pussies? This is my motherfuckin hood. Yeah some of my soldiers went to the Dubs hood but that's on them not me. I don't want shit to do with niggas from that side of town. You touch me everybody in your family dies...you know what? I'll give you that fools number cause I wanna see how this shit plays out. You stupid motherfuckers..."

Javier pointed the shotgun at him. "You have no crew left. We just sprayed up your stash..." Javier then walked forward towards the gas station attendant a man of Indian descent who was starting to dial 911. He aimed the shotgun at him. "Put the phone down and slide your wallet over..." He did and he held up his ID. "Your name is Rajesh Singh. You live at 436 Almond Street in Hayward, San Andreas. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal..." He said with a gulp.

He returned to where the other three Rifas had him at gun point. "You fuckin bitches are lying. Y'll aint did shit..."

"You don't recognize the shotgun?" Asked Casper. "How about these?" He showed him the drug stash and the pistols. "What the fuck...?!"

Javier was on the payphone when the number he paged got back to him. "¡¿Con quien estoy hablando?!"

(Who am i speaking to?!)

"Quien soy no es importante. Lo que tengo es. O a quien tengo. Tengo a tu hombre medio, Rodney. No nos gusta que suplieras a nuestros enemigos. Si quieres verlo vivo de nuevo, será mejor que tengas 40 de los grandes."

(Who I am isn't important. What I have is. Or who I have. I have your middle man, Rodney. We don't like you supplying our enemies. You want to see him alive again you better have 40 grand.)

The voice on the other end of the pay phone replied, "¿Crees que no podemos conseguir otro narco de nivel medio?"

(You think we can't get some other mid level drug kingpin?)

Javier sneered. "Su elección, camarada. Pero si yo fuera tú, no sería tan rápido en darle un beso a una persona que gana cuarenta mil dólares a la semana."

(Your choice, comrade. But if I was you, I wouldn't be so quick to kiss an earner that makes forty thousand dollars a week goodbye.)

"¿Qué deseas?" Demanded the cartel member on the other end.

"Cuarenta mil dólares. On one hand I know you assholes probably don't carry that kind of cash on you. On the other hand, you can easily get it."

"Meet us at the Port Of Ohlone in one hour."

"Firme...we'll be there. Oh and if you try anything we'll light this fucker on fire."

Javier took the jerry can from him. "You know what I always wondered? Gasoline fucks you up if it's in large amounts. We all spill some on ourselves every now and then pumping gas. But when I get it on me one time I got some lawn mower gas on my skin. Not even two seconds later it evaporated. And there was this dried white residue on me later."

"So? What the fuck I care?!" Growled the rival drug dealer.

Javier held up his finger to his lips. "Shhh! the teacher is talking bitch. Silence in the is a mixture of a variety of volatile hydrocarbons, some branched chain alkanes and some aromatics. The warmth of your hand is enough to cause small quantities to evaporate. But it will also dissolve some of the hydrocarbon-soluble oils from your skin. Then when it evaporates, they will be left but they will form a microcrystalline powder rather than returning to the parts of the skin they were extracted from: this is the white residue. This is a common when volatile non-polar solvents are spilled on the skin..."

"The fuck...who is you? A scientist or a motherfucking cholo?!"

Javier punched him in the stomach. "Now look...that would explain why your skin..anybody's skin would turn that color if gas hits the outside of you but what if it was on the inside? I wanna see if you turn green. Or purple. This is strictly for science, homes..."

"Fuck you!"

Duke forced him to drink the entire gallon of gasoline. He screamed in agony as it went down his throat. Javier, upon realizing what he was doing, demanded, "What the fuck, homes? It was just supposed to be a threat!"

"This is Ohlone, dog. We don't make threats. We make promises."

"But you didn't even make it! I did! I was talking to the man, Duke."

"Yeah well because of this motherfucker my homeboy Tony is laid out in the cemetery and my homegirl Cassandra needs physical therapy cause of the shit this punk and his crew started."

He continued to force the whole can down his throat and Javier said, "That's enough! How are we supposed to give him back alive to his homies?" As he spoke the black male started to suffocate.

"We're not. We just make it LOOK like he's alive. All though he smells like gasoline...it's good you warned them about that, eh besides sicarios do that shit all the time. They call it fire necklacing. Sick shit."

"We better have a good plan for this shit then, fool. I wasn't planning on getting into it with a cartel. I don't care if they're from Mexico or Colombia I got a mother and sister to worry about. Rafi can handle himself but they're civilians!"

"Should have thought about that before you got back into the life..." Stated Cora.

"Is that right you junkie bitch?" Asked Javier with a sneer. "Yeah...don't think I didn't see the tire marks. You're a fiend. If I did think about anything...it would still be more thought that you put into anything yoi do."

"And you're a San Fierro puto out here in Ohlone. We both Rifas baby but don't you ever forget that. Cause bitch or not or user or not my name means more on these streets than yours does."

"Look, let's not fight among ourselves..." Casper said picking the dead body up and he beckoned to Duke to help as he was now heavier due to a gallon being in his belly. "Filo wouldn't want that and Casper wouldn't want it."

"Nah, fuck this Army vato acting like he's hard. This is O Town, cabron. We don't play here, man! This is big time out here!"

"What would you know? Just in the time I been back I put in more time for my varrio than you probably have all your time. That's not saying much though. Whatd you do for your hood besides shoot sugar up your arm and lay on your back? You O Town gente can brag about your higher murder rate but in my hood a homegirl gets jumped in or she aint getting in at all. We don't do that softie shit in Garcia. Homegirls put in work or they get courted out."

She went to rush at him and thhrew a punch but Duke caught her and held her back. "Calma, carnala! He's our homeboy. This aint helping."

"Yeah, Javier? How did that work out for your homegirl Lil Loca? maybe you should have courted her ass out cause she wasn't built for this shit. Then again maybe she'd still be alive!"

Javier pulled out his Handgun pointing it at her cheek. "You wanna fuck with me, bitch?!" Casper got in his face. "Tu calmate, cabron! Or you and me are gonna have a problem!" He then looked at Cora. "And you shut the fuck up! We got shit to do!" They began to drive to the Port of Ohlone. "Man, we're probably gonna get caught. You know what a risk this shit is?"

"You think the cops are gonna be down there? I'm down for whatever but if it's the police involved, I aint with this shit..." Cora said.

"Are you serious?" Duke asked. "You were just getting on Javier's ass for hesitating now you'd let a few pinche juras get in the way of this?"

"Life's a risk carnal..." Stated Javier. Though in his head, he thought, _Whatever. This bitch is either scared now or she realizes if we take on these Sicarios she might fuck herself out of having access to heroin. She could get tar anywhere in the city but who the fuck knows how a junkie rationalizes in their head?_

They waited and finally the cartel members arrived. They got Rodney out of the trunk and made it seem like he was just having a hard time walking. "He smells like shit..." Remarked the head Colombian, a man wearing a white lapel suit and white slacks. "And gasolina..."

"We told him and you if he started any shit we'd light his ass up. As for shitting his chonies that's his fault not ours. Aint my fault you fuckers brought a boy into a grown man's game. You got out feria, homie?"

"You're making a big mistake. I don't have to tell you what this means..." He said setting down a duffel bag full of money. "I think you already know. I take it you are the man I was talking to?"

"Tha's right. And let me guess. You fools are from Cali, right?"

"Now how did you know that?" Asked the thick accented South American. "Call it an educated guess. It's the way you Colombians speak Spanish. All proper like the Spanish do. Weird for a country that has just as much slang as we do."

"Well if you Mexicanos didn't speak Spanish in slang you wouldn't speak it at all..." Shot back the Cartel member. They had a boat nearby. The cartel members took him onto the boat.

As sure as they had expected, rounds came crashing at them but the Rifas had anticipted an ambush and taken cover. As eight Colombians with Assault Rifles tried to mow them down, Filo, Juero Stein, and Cartoon came in shooting. They had been hiding near containers. Cora came up shooting and she managed to hit one of the Colombian men that was trying to get on the boat and get away. She hit him with a blizzard of rounds. Duke and Casper showed no mercy either letting loose on what Colombians they had in their crosshairs. Between the two of them, two more dropped with Duke hitting one in the right leg while Casper riddled the other with rounds from the Tec 9.

Cartoon, Filo and Juero also dropped four out of the eight Colombians from behind each of them taking rounds in the back. Cazo, Hueso, and Scar all fired their Handguns into the backs of the heads of the Colombian cartel members each of them armed only with pistols but they managed to land head shots and the sound of the sickening splats as bullets hit brain stems sounded off in the three remaining Colomians took the dead body of Rodney and they cursed at how much he fell over as they landed him onto the boat. "¿Qué comió este hombre para hacerlo tan pesado?" Demanded the cartel member who had done the negotiating.

(What did this man eat to make him so heavy?!)

"¡Deben haberlo golpeado muy mal!" Cried the second. (They must have beaten him really bad!)

"No lo creo. ¡Podría estar muerto! Revisalo!"

(I don't think so. He might be dead! Check him! )

One of them took the bag off his head to see the black male's lips had turned blue. "Que chingados!" Cried one of the Colombians.

"I'd be careful if I were you..." Javier stated. "He's got real bad gas! Been stinking up our car all the way here!" With that he raised his weapon and fired striking the dead body. It exploded in a burst of body parts coming apart like a big bloody bloated balloon being deflated or popped and bone fragments flew everywhere. Three members of the cartel were also blowm apart. The next two, including the man in charge was screaming as the flames licked away at the flesh on their faces.

"You won't be coming after mi familia or anybody else's..." Javier spat. The boat blew up shortly after and the shock wave sent all the Rifas knocked over. Javier got to his feet as his ears rang and he tossed the bag of money into the car that Hueso had driven to get there. "Let's get outta here before the cops show!" Javier yelled as loud as he could hoping they'd be able to hear him despit their own ears.

They took off and split up and Hueso and the others agreed to meet up at Filo's spot where they would stash the money. Once their hearing came back, Javier said, "It's too bad we gotta split that feria with 51st street. I mean Filo's my homeboy and all but it was my idea to hold that fool for ransom. And we did all that shit in one night! I'd say we outdid ourselves."

"It was the honorable thing to do, homie..." Insisted Scar. "It is their homeboys that took the losses on the streets they just called us in for backup to not get too many of their soldiers caught up in this shit. Besides if we tried to split that shit nine ways it would hardly be worth the take"

Hueso added, " If we use that shit to but some weight and divide it evenly between our varrio and theirs though, we'd turn a profit. Then it'd be worth it."

"Yeah, Javier aint you ever heard good things come to those who wait?" Asked Cazo in an accusing tone. "Yeah...I've heard that along with other fantasy bullshit. All I'm saying is we just took a serious risk. Those Colombians are gonna be looking into what the fuck happened. The pigs aint the only ones in town that can knock on doors and do investigations. it's a good thing they didn't drop any of us back there cause if they had they'd have more proof we were in on it."

"Yeah well luckily for us..." Stated Scar, "A few of the chanate cliques around the way bordering 51st street also happened to have beef with them. i mean if you think about it nobody really liked them fools. Not them, not the Samoans, not the Asians, Paisas whoever. They were cutting in on everyody;s turf, man. They weren't just doing it in the 50's. They were starting to push a line down 49th too. When push comes to shove everybody wanted them dead."

"So your plan is to just blame other hoods?"

"I didn't say that..." Scar stated. "And Filo sure as fuck didn't either. I'm just saying if the media tries to say that's what went down or the juras or whoever the fuck...I aint correcting em. WE aint correcting em."

El Cazo nodded adding, "Much as we may not want to admit it, man, and it doesn't matter since we aint from over there, the black crews got more power. They got sheer numbers, homes. We got numbers too but they got more. It might be a salty motherfucker to swallow, pride homes but it could save our lives. Nah literally it could. It's better for everybody if they just pick another hood. Better yet let them blame the scrapas or one of the Paisa crews for that shit, man. Like yeah we had shootouts with them before but it was coming with other people."

Javier knew that was true at least in the sense that while the Rifas did consider the blacks allies and vice versa, it was no secret that the Rifas wanted to be the more powerful of the two. They wanted the blacks to have to come to them and ask them for help not the other way around. Javier didn't doubt that it was probably the same way for the independent neighborhood corner gangs. They contended with heach other some were allied with each other and others were rivals but he doubted they had any complaints about the notion that they ran Ohlone.

"I doubt that's gonna work, passing the buck..." Stated Javier. "The buck stops here but it don't matter we took em out. I'm more worried about the Colombians, mano. They can't get wind of what happened. Actually tu sabes..it's better if they do blame another hood for this shit cause that crew was working for them. They'd have to go after 51st street to get to us. Or they could make us give them up. Either way it doesn't look good..."

"Could you quit being fuckin selfish, Javier? You aint the only one with family, man! I got love and respect for Ezzy and tu madre but I got kids of my own, bro. We all got skin in the game. But this is what we chose. It's what you chose. Living the crazy life."

"Yeah...you didn't have any peer pressure at all..." Javier said rolling his eyes. "None of you put that spray can in my hand. RIGHT?!"

"Hey in the words of 2pac...I was given this world I didn't make it..." Replied Hueso. "You could have come home got a straight laced job. You got a college degree. We don't got any part of that shit! The fuck did you even do down there all that time in Vice City, wey?!"

"Truth be told? Got a job at the student store. It wasn't much but it paid the bills."

"Hey, we shouldn't take this shit lightly..." Cazo said with a sigh, a haunted look on his face. "Those motherfuckers from Valle Del Cauca aint no joke. Remember that fool, Escobar? He was the top dog in that country and those fuckers still won."

They arrived at a girfriend of Filo's house but she was not in. She was out partying. She was really more of a fuck buddy than a girlfriend as it was. "All right..." Stated Filo as he pulled up a floorboard and put the money in. "We're gonna buy some shit when wecan. When the heats died down from the streets and five o. We gotta split the funds between us though. Equal skrilla for both neighborhoods. I really should hit you with some 60/40 shit but i won't cause you're my dogs...and you did put your asses on the line here."

"Question..." Javier sid raising his hand. "Whatever it is you're trying to buy. Coka or chiva...how are you gonna get it? You just took out one supply, man."

"Simple, ese..." He replied. "We'll find somebody else. There's Mexican cartels now too ya know. it aint just all on them Colombian boys. Or better yet we could not even buy from Latinos, man. Try the Chinese."

"The Triads, carnal? Hell no. You gotta be outta your mind!" Stated Cartoon. Casper agreed putting a hand on the black Rifa gang members shoulder. "That's true man. We gotta consider the compas from the west bay too. You vatos took a lot of L's against the Mountain Cloud Boys."

"So maybe we don't fuck with them then..." Stated Filo. "Maybe a different tong. Don't let that blind bitch out there fool you. He aint the only player in Chinatown. Trust me, homie. I gamble out there."

"All right well youlet me know what you decide when you decide it then..." Javier said. Hueso nodded and added, "Yeah cause if we get down with the Chinos at all it can't be Mountain Cloud or anybody they're friends with. i still wanna smoke that Ray Charles motherfucker for the shit he pulled at Eastern Basin."

"Hey no disrespect..." Cora started to say hesitating before continuing. "But didn't the Triads lose more people in that fight than your boys?"

"They did...'" Stated Cazo. "They were staring to win the fight but then some punk with a Sniper Rifle picked em off. All the homies on the roof got taken out that night, man. We lost the big homie T Bone too."

"Orale..." She said. Cartoon said, "Look ya'll can get back to us and if you aint with it if it ends up being the Mountain Cloud Boys we do settle on..." Javier started to voice protest. "Just hear me out, homes..." He said raising a hand to command patience. "If you don't want to deal with them we'll deal with them on your behalf. They don't gotta know shit about who all's involved. I mean why tell em anyway, right? We don't want the Colombians knowing what went down so why let even Triads see all our cards?"

Filo agreed and said, "Either way, whatever happens you still get your cut, hermanos. And you know what? Whatever I make...I want to give a cut of the profits to Lil Loca's family, man. It's the least I can do."

"Gracias carnal..." Said Javier slapping hands with him. The others did the same and before long the 24th street gangsters were on the way back to Garcia.

 _A Thousand Bailasos_

Eladora had seen two more of Danny's games. They had lost one and won one. This last one was the one they'd lost. Eladora put on a white wife beater over her black sports bra and she wore a brown plaid flannel jacket and some brown khakis. She had her hair tied back in a top ponytail. She turned to Danny. "I got a surprise for you..."She said.

"What is it?"

She smiled. "I just found out. Mama and papa are back in town. They worked out some kind of deal. They get to be here on an alien resident thing..."

"What's that?" Inquired the twelve year old. "Mama y papa aint from outter space how are they aliens?"

"I won't get into that..." Eladora chuckled. "But mirate...they're coming home baby bro. We're gonna be a family again. We don't have to go to no foster care either."

"But how? Who's helping them out?"

Eladora stated, "I just got word from a friend..." In truth, she had heard it from El Sapo and while she wasn't entirely sure she trusted the rival gang member, from what he had told her, he knew her father from their guerlla days. They had fought alongside each other and Sapo still kept his ears to the ground.

"Friend?"

"Yeah. Somebody from El Salvador like papa. We're gonna be fine, carnalito. You can bet on that."

He asked her, "Hey...can i have some friends over?" She gave him some money. "Yeah. Get some pizza. As long as you stay in the house."

"Can we watch an R rated movie?" He asked. She chuckled. "Yeah. I won't tell mom and dad if you don't. But between you and me? Don't get used to it. Once they get back you'll be lucky if they even let you watch PG 13."

"Man, I gotta wait a year just to even see that?!" He grumbled. She chuckled. "Yeah. They're coming home in two days so get your fill.'

She was picked up by the homies two minutes later. They began to drive towards the neighborhood of the rival gang. They had the radio on Radio Los Santos. The song Aint No Sunshine played as they rolled up the street for Strawberry. It wasn't long before they spotted a few cholos as they rolled past the most famous donut spot in the city.

They were all armed.

Eladora squeezed off her 9mm's out of the window and she watched as three members of Varrio Fresa dropped as she fired nine rounds. Tricky let the Uzi rattle off. He hit two members of the rival Vago varrio as they sat in their gold Peyote just twenty feet away. He decorated the front of the lowerider with the driver's brain and skull and a piece of his left ear as he fired. He hit the second gang member with seven in the chest. "You thought you could take me out putos?! I'm right fuckin here! Varrio Corona por vida! Corona Controllamos todo!"

Celocita and Shyboy sprayed rounds as well Celocita raking the Tec 9 at the rivals while Shyboy hosed them down with Mac-10 rounds . A Vago returned fire the rival busting a 9mm back at them yelling, "Fuck Corona! Nothing but paisas and tweakers in your varrio, ese!"

"Nah homie..." Growled Eladora. "Fuck Fruitcakes! You levas are only good for getting eaten by worms!" The double meaning of this insult was both in that she was calling them homosexuals but also referring to the slang term for strawberry meaning a neighorhood ho. And in this instance the worm both referred to the fact thats he wanted to see them dead and eaten by worm food but also that they were like sluts laying on their back as several 'worms' entered every orfice.

The Tec 9 sprayed the man from the man's left nipple down diagonally across his chest and down to his stomach until it hit the right hip bone and he had seven rounds inside him as he fell. Shyboy managed to hit two of their homegirs as well, one of them a chubby teenage girl nearing her twenties wearing a flannel plaid gold button up over a white tank top and black jeans the other was a woman of Salvadoran American descent wearing a brown midriff top and black jeans and had a yellow bandanna tied around her neck length hair. He riddled them both with rounds and then blew smoke before ducking down to reload the Mac just as two rounds narrowly missed his had.

Eladora saw two rival Vagos running up the road and she fired the 9mm emptying the entire magazine. She saw both fall over but was unsure she killed them. Trickyy managed to hit nother member in both knees before he ran out. He yelled back, "Enjoy the free handicap space, puto! It's all you have to look forward to"

They turned the corner just as a Fresa 13 member was coming after them loading and racking a 20 gauge. Celocita hit that man, a Mexican born cholo with a white tank top and black fedora in the stomach with the last four rounds while the rest missed. "Let's hit Strawberry Avenue. See if we can catch anymore of these faggots off guard!"

"What, that wasn't enough for you? What you playing at, Tricks?" Demanded Eladora.

"Chale mija...I want the motherfuckers that came to the baseball game que no? We need to show them a lesson in respect."

"That's a tinto neighborhood. Strawberry Ave. The Ballas run that shit. And I see Families coming through there too. Point is it aint ours..." Celocita warned. "It doesn't matter. I see these Fresa idiotas kicking back all over the city. They'll never learn if we don't teach them. We gotta find exactlty where these fuckers kick it. In the mean time we blast any we see that come our way."

Celocita replied, "That's a stupid plan, man! It's retarded and short sighted."

"The fuck you talking about bitch? My vision is just fine. And who you calling a retard?"

"She's got a point, fool. What if the juras roll up on us? While we're out doing this?"

"Then let em. I don't care! I'll shoot them too. They got a pistola and a shotgun in their carucha. They don't got an Uzi."

They pulled up Strawberry Avenue. They switched out the gang rags over their faces for black ski masks but before they could slide them on, Eladora pointed. "That's Crash right there, dog..." She said with her heart pounding. They hit the lights and the sirens sure enough and Tricky went pale and they busted a U turn but they started to head in the direction they'd just came from. "WHOO! Shit! That was a close one!" He slapped hands with Shyboy. "man, this is fuckin stupid, Celocita's right. I aint sure I wanna kick it with the homeboys anymore. i'll just kick it with the locas man at least we plan shit out..." Eladora said.

"Hey, if you wanna sync your periods up and sit around watching soap operas between jales, be my guest..." He replied. "You know you can't spell Tricky without Trick, right?" Eladora said with a glare. He just shook his head. "You're getting mouthy as fuck for somebody that only got put on practically yesterday and you can't buy a pack of cigarettes without an adult present. Shit you can't even see a rated movie. How are you gonna tell me anything?"

"If the sixteen year old gets it then why don't you., homes?" Shyboy finally said speaking up. "I'm all for hitting these bitches up. But let's not keep doing shit so much we'd run outta ammo or get caught up. I get that you're pissed hermano but you gotta chill..." He looked back in the direction of the police car. "I think somebody must have called the cops but nobody saw the ride. We're lucky. For now..."

"You didn't get shot, Shy. I did. You know what it feels like, perro? I don't mean a graze wound either cause a lot of fuckers in the varrio had that I mean in your body. it hurts, after about 15 minutes when the adrenaline goes away, you begin to feel the , wet blood flowing out of you, as well as the hot bullet inside of you, feels like someone lit a narguila charcoal and just let it sit there inside you."

He readied hiz Uzi as he reloaded. "There's a few more of them. Vamanos!"

He then added, "Hey, Celocita, let's have Encabronada use the shotty. Let's see if she's a big shot like she's talking. You're a loca right? Use that fucker right there. Pump it back and start squeezing."

She handed her the Itcha 37. There was a five man crowd of Vagos posted up outside a Liqour Ace store. She aimed out the window and fired and watched as two from the crowd fell over both bleeding. She fired again as she had hit one, a cholo in a brown plaid button up with a Yellow Venturas Pirates hat on backwards with light brown skin standing at 5'9 in the right ribcage and the other she hit with several pellets to the back just above the butt. They both fell over crying out in pain. Celocita sprayed the next three and she killed two and wounded the fifth. The last man, Shyboy finished off. Suddenly, Tricky got out and checked the bodies. "Nope. it aint them..." He heard something inside.

"The fuck?" He held up his uzi. The store had a sign in the winow which read, **Black Owned.** Eladora asked, "Why did you stop?"

"Cause that nigger is going to call 911. You saw he took a shot at us, right? One of us needs to go in there and end him or he'll point the juras in our direction. Besides, if any of us do get pinched we got bragging rights with the carnales in the pinta."

"Why did yoiu stop the fuckin car Tricky?! if the cops show up they'll REALLY catch us now!"

"Yeah but this fucker calling the cops now will also get them on our asses. If we run into more of those vatos from Strawberry Trece we don't need the fuckin 77th Division interfering with our business!"

"I'll fuckin go inside..." Eladora said with her shotgun in her arms. She pushed through the door expecting the man would have locked it after what had just happened. "Hey..." The man had a shotgun of his own, a Remington 870. He didn't have it aimed at her because he had started to dial the phone. Celocita came in from the back too and she put the Tec 9 to the back of the black man's head. She took the phone out of the wall. He had been in mid sentence describing what had happened. "We can make your day very hard. Or we can pay you a little bit of money to look the other way. You work in this neighborhood with a store I know you got money problems..." Eladora stated.

"I don't want no trouble!" He cried. "it's bad enough you got niggas coming around here shooting each other now I gotta deal with ya'll too?"

"I thought that was an insult, vato? Why do you say that word? Your own gente? You don't see me and her calling each other beaners..." Asked Celicota keeping the Tec 9 on him. "Cause that's what I see. Really it should be niggers if I'm being honest. Niggers in purple and green and orange. And since ya'll are thieves breaking the law that's what ya'll are too..." Eladora growled, "Hell of a thing to say with two guns on you. What's it gonna be? Bullet or money?"

He was swrating. "I'l take the money but i don't know what the fuck ya'l l expect. The cops are gonna know something's up cause you got me of the phone!"

"That's okay. You'll just call them right back and you can tell them you saw a different kind of car. Heading a different directon. You accidentally unplugged the phone in a panic..."

Eladora took his wallet. "Do you understand us, Alan Martin Waters of 1055 Sueno Avenue, Vespucci Beach?" She held up a picture of him with his wife and three children two girls and a boy.

"Yeah..."He swallowed..." He put the phone back on the hook but as he dialed she said, "I'm gonna wath you just to make sure you get the facts straight..." He dialed and said, "Yeah...it's the same man...sorry I just had dropped the phone...listen yeah...there was a purple Voodoo with at least two Hispanic males in there. I didn't see their faces. They shot up five boys in front of my store...uh huh...yeah...I fired at em with my piece they must have thought it was the guys they shot at. Yes officer I have a permit. Uh huh. Yah i told you before about those ballers that keep shoplifting from my store...well I can't say for sure where they were headed but it looked like they were driving towards Flauson Boulevard. Yep. Right towards Strawberry and Flauson. Nah i didn't get a look at the plates..."

He wrapped it up telling the officers he'd be there. "All right...i did what you said..." Celocita handed him $50. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. And it was fifty he didn't have before. Just then, a shot rang out and the black shop owner fell forward with a bullet in the back. Shyboy stood there with a smoking Beretta. "what the fuck, Shy?! Why'd you do that?!" Demanded Eladora. "Trick told me too."

Tricky was in the store now too and he grabbed a pair of workers gloves and put them on. He stood over the bleeding dying man. "They...they promised..."

"Yeah and they kept it. They didn't shoot you. I your family will live. I hope you got good life insurance..."

He took the phone cord and began to strangle him with it. The man's eyes bulged and turned red as he strangled him. "Shhhh...calm down, hombre...it's almost over. Hey i know I been shot...that shit hurts...Let me take your pain away..." He contined to strange the shop keeper. He whispered, "you know...if you hadn't come outside, we wouldn't have known or cared who was in here. You got nobody to blame but yourself. In the next life mind your fuckin business...even IN your place of business. This is South Central. Anything can happen here."

Finally the man's eyes went black and his tongue stuck from his mouth not like in the cartoons but almost like a pink bubble. Tricky sighed. "Well I don't know if i did that right but just in case..." He twisted the man's neck until his vertabrae snapped. "Jesus! You're fuckin psycho!" Cried Eladora. "You're just now figuring that out/ Really?" The Chicano gangster asked in an accusing tone. "Come on, hermanas. Let's go. We still can catch a few more of these Fruitcakes off guard."

"Are you fucking stupid?!" Eladora cried out. "You're trying to get us arrested! You don't even know that the guys at the ball game were the ones to shoot you!"

"Encabronada, the day you get shot, and trust me you spend enough time in this vida you will. You just pray you survive and don't end up a veggie. And only then will you really understand it. It's a foreign object. Penetrating us. It's almost like rape but it aint exactly. But you don't see me talking about a woman's experience with that shit! I got a right to revenge just like you would if a chavala from another varrio raped you."

"What about women that get shot?!" Demanded Celocita. All though he wasn't taking sides in the argument, Shyboy spoke up just to play devils advocate. "Si mon but men can get molested too. I'e been molested by foster moms and dad. Evil doesn't have a gender..."

Eladora had been friends with Shyboy for a while though they didn't talk much because he didn't talk much but now she figured she started to understand part of why that was. "Look, just one more hit all right?" Tricky asked. "You got mi palabra."

"That means nothin to me..." Eladora said. "Then why the fuck you riding in the car with me, perra? You just a little groupie or hang around and shit? Or you just a wannabe? I'd sooner have Danny in this shit..."

"HEY! Danny is NOT joining Corona. Do you fuckin hear me?!" Normally, Tricky would not be intimidated by anybody especially a girl younger than him but her sudden octave took him off guard. "I mean, all right but you can't make his choices for him forever. This is Corona. You really think he's going to college? Get real, mija. Statistically even you got a higher chance of doing that shit than he does and you're already fucked up in the game."

"You don't know shit, fucker!" Growled the half Salvadoran half Honduran. "Danny's smarter than you even at his age. Smarter than me too. There's people younger than him already jumped in and he's done what i say. He hasn't fucked up his life so far I won't let him now."

"Hey that's all well and good, homegirl..." Began Tricky. "But he's gonna start to rebel when he gets into his teens. That's something neither you or your parents can do shit about. You just gotta let it play out, deal with it as it comes and hope for the best. See if it was you as my daughter I'd be worried about the wrong kind of vatos trying to get with you. Or impregnate you. A vato exactly like me. But Danny it's a different thing for him. He's a boy. In a war zone. He's both more dangerous and he's more in danger. Cause when he gets to a certain age whether he bangs or not vatos will think he does. Now that i think about it why do you even let him outside? He should just be a stoop kid."

"I can't shield him from reality and el mundo but i can try and protect him until he's ready to deal with it. And I do make sure he hangs out only with the kids that don't gang bang around here butmaybe you haven't noticed but for his own safety I make sure he doesn't have sleepovers in Strawberry. Or near Unity Station for that matter. 18th street, 14th I don't let him near Mirror Park either. The females from there are fuckin crazy too."

"They got nothing on El Corona!" Bellowed Celocita.

They spotted three more Strawberry members walking up the street. "Oye mija...this time just you shoot. Nobody else. Aim for their fuckin piernas I wanna catch at leas one if them alive. So your job isn't to kill all these fuckers. Just maim them..."

Eladora aimed out of the window. The first was a Chicano with a shaved head and the Virgin Mary tatted on his right arm wearing a white wife beater and baggy brown khakis. He was a bit overweight perhaps by forty pounds and he stood 5'8. Eladora hit him in the right achilies tendon and he screamed shrieking with agony falling over. "La Corona por vida!" She screamed. She fired again as the second cholo started to draw his weapon, a Glock but she hit him mid center for fear if she didn't he would have hit her. He was a handsome man in decent shape who didn't look much older than her and he had slicked back hair bright rown skin and a handle bar mustache and he wore a white t shirt and blue jeans shorts and had been wearing a yellow bandanna.

The last, she missed and he was running while also trying to extend his gun to shoot over his shoulder, this man was a Chicano in his early 20's. He had a buzz cut for his brown hair and a soul patch and he wore a brown and white button up plaid jacket and black dickies and dark blue Stacy Lane shoes. Tricky opened the door of the car as he drove knocking him down and his cuete went off. Tricky stopped the car getting out and he pulled the stunned gang member to his feet and popped the trunk. "What's up Fruitcake? You and me are gonna take a little drive..."

"Fuckin hichona puto!" The man growled and Tricky replied, "Now I know you've heard this line from CRASH before when they throw you in the paddy wagon. It's the same idea here. Only I'm a gangster and your ass is going in the trunk not the back seat...' He slammed the trunk down on his head earning a cry from the rival. He ran up to the front seat and floored it. Celocita took the dropped Glock off the ground that she had picked up when they stopped and she fired two shots out the window back at the man shot in the heel. One round missed but the second pierced the man in the middle right side of his back.

"Where are we going?!" Demanded Eladora. "Somewhere we can have a little heart to heart talk with this Fresa faggot! He aint the vato that shot me and he wasn't at the parque that day either but he knows something..."

"I hope you're not taking us far..." Replied Encabronada. "You didn't even tie him up."

"You're right, Guanaca. We aint going far at all."

"Hey, Tricky why you so hot at the chanates?" She asked. "Besides pinta pollitics? All right look...the other day some of them had the chotas after them so they break into some viejos pad beat the shit outta old timer entiendes? He might not live. He was a grumpy old fucker but he was funny. I take that personal."

They pulled up at 104th in La Corona and got out pulling the cholo from the trunk on Tricky's orders.

He whistled to two Peewees, one of them aged fifteen, one of them aged fourteen. The older one had finished most of a forty. He handed them both a wad of cash and said, "Hey carnalitos...take this ride to the LS river. Antorcha todo bien? Sabes qué hacer."

The two teens who looked like they'd barely be able to see over the steering wheel climbed into the hot car and drove off with it.

Shyboy and Celocita began to punch and kick him and Tricky stopped them but said, "You got one chance to live. And it'll be on my terms but first you gotta tell me what I wanna know cause this is my neighborhood. Soy Tricky De Corona. Who the fuck did this me? I bet it was that punk Shadow, huh? You're gonna tell me where he kicks back."

"Fuck you..." The cholo growled boldy. "Your varrio aint nothing but a bunch of little girls and kids, man! You think Strawberry Trece would ever bow to you?! It don't matter if you got more numbers than us cause we still outmatch and outclass you!" He spat in Eladora's face. "Y tu, chiquita? You prove my fuckin pont. You're a little girl hat can't even shoot."

She hit him in the gut with the Shotgun and he doubled over coughing earning a psychotic laugh from Tricky. "I give her shit myself, ese but you know what her placa is? Encabronada. She's pissed off a lot of the time. This is her in a good mood. You don't wanna see her on a bad day, homes. I'd watch what you say."

Eladora added, "Plus I was suppsed to take one of you fools alive. Be grateful it's you."

"You fuckers are gonna kill me even if I do tell you. The varrio is gonna kill me if you don't. Fuckin kill me. At least i die with honor."

"We came back on you cause you shot him..." Eladora told him. "This is just fair play. It aint my way of doing things but i'm down for the homies. The best way you can survive and still get in good with your homies is we beat the shit outta you and the cops find you. Maybe they find you with something on you maybe not. You can go to the hospital or jail but this way they don't think you dimed them out and you didn't get away too easily. Especially if you're in the big house with other homies...and if you feel strong enough about it when we go and light up Shadow you get to be the hero who comes after us and gets revenge for your compa. Nobody has to know you gave him up. It's obvious Tricks is gunning for your homeboys."

The cholo thought about it and then said, "This shit is fucked up...Shadow said he did time with your fuckin ass! He said he saved your ass from some Trannies trying to jump you!" Specifically, the Families hood he was speaking on was the Rancho gang known as the Hamilton Square Families as three of them had tried to jump Tricky in the shower.

"And I repaid him backing him up against some Rifas that wanted to shank his ass, homes!" Tricky shot back. "So I paid him back. I also put feria on his books. And that's the thing. I know the streets are the streets and the pinta is the pinta and when we get back outside all bets are off a lot of the time especially when you go back to old ways. But we had each other's back that should have counted for something. I could see how he might beef with other little homies from ourside but we were compas in there. For him to come after me shows he has no honor."

"He didn't say shit to me about that part! Look, I got a girlfriend homes. I'd like to see her again when she gets outta jail. Shadow kicks it over at the car shows in East LS."

"He's chilling in the East Side varrios? How has nobody fucked him up?"

"Less likely to run into somebody from a hood he's beefing with. Most South and West Los vatos don't kick it there. Plus his ranfla burns, eh. He entered it into the lowrider car show. He'll even be there this sunday."

Tricky, satisfied with the answer said, "All right. Here's the deal..." He nodded to ten members of La Corona, as well as Shyboy, Eladora and Celocita. Dreamer was among them too as as Mona. The rest of the ten person group comprised of fully grown paisas plus a couple of teen paisas. Maybe it was in fact true. La Corona was a misfit varrio even among other south side gangs who by definition shared that same isolation from mainstram society. So what Fresa Trece said about them was true but it was what made them strong.

Tricky announced, "If you can get pas the homies...you can go free. If you can't, you die..."

He then folded his arms with a cocky sneer. "You don't gotta win. You just gotta get past them."

Shyboy struck the cholo in the face hard and the man hit the ground and he tried to get up even as his lips bled but he was soon punched and kicked by the various members of La Corona. They then backed up giving him time to get up and also because that many people trying to pig pile him wasn't practical and too many homies would be getting in the way of the rest from hitting him. He threw a punch at Shyboy back and he hit the scrawny cholo but Shyboy then drove a left elbow into his jaw and as he doubled over, kicked him in his ribs.

Mona kicked him in the face as he fell, Dreamer kicked him in the balls. La Panza let him get to his feet before she struck him as hard as she could with a left hook busting his nose. The Fresa gang member fell over his nose dripping to the ground. He struck Smiley in the face this time and tried to run past him but the cholo grappled him while Enojado punched him in the left ear and then went for a blow to his left eye and he staggered back. Like before, Tricky was counting up to 104.

He had reached thirty eight so far. El Bruto and El Tamal bombarded the rival with punches and as he hit the ground for what seemed like the eighth time since they started rushing him. The bloody faced cholo coughed up blood as they had broken his ribs and Tricky counted past one minute. He turned to Eladora. "The fuck are you doing, eh? Everybody participates.I'm doing the counting."

Tamal, Shyboy, Bruto, and Smiley forced the beaten and bloodied Ramon to his feet. "Hit him!" Urged El Tamal. Enojado also put an arm on each shoulder before driving his right knee into his gut. His eyes were swollen and Eladora stared at the wounded and beaten man. "DO IT! DO IT DO IT!" Chanted the cholos and cholas. Eladora hit him as hard as she could with a left hook and his head snapped back and while he only staggered even as the LC members let him go, she hit him with a right hook this time and he staggered again falling over sideways as she made a cut on his right cheek worse and he collapsed wheezing for breath.

Dreamer, La Munica and Celocita kicked him from his head to his toe while Smiley leaned in and they stopped kicking his face but kept kicking his body and he punched him hard enough to break his nose this time. Eladora had shot people before but looking down at the chaos as the man was beaten, she felt terrible for it. The man had no way out.

Tricky had counted up to 90 before he looked like he might lose consciousness. Blood and teeth fell from his mouth, Eladora saw a tooth come out root first as the cholo whimpered in pain and they had kncked out about nine of his teeth. Finally, Tricky got to 104 seconds and told them, "Stop!" The gang member was so beaten and bloody Tricky just laughed. "You get an A for effort..." He pulled out his Handgun pulling the slide back and aimed for his head. He was going to pull the trigger but then said, "You know what? I'm a man of my word, homie. You're a trooper. If you can walk outta my neighborhood you can live. Just get past us..."

The rival weakly got to his feet without a word and he glared defiantly even through his broken eye sockets as he tried to walk past the gang members. As Tricky held his right hand up he ensured none of them touched him. The rival walked ten feet while the members of La Corona watched with smirks on their faces. All except for Eladora.

He made it ten steps before another hacking cough forced more blood from his lips and he fell face down on the sidewalk. He did not get up again nor would he ever. "Hey I told the motherfucker if he could get past us he'd live, eh! I even made it easier for him!"

This earned a laugh from all the gang members excep Eladora. "Guess you were right, dog..." Chuckled Smiley a full grin on his face. "The bitch did die. Just not in the way I expected homes. I thought we were gonna stomp him till he was hamburger,wey!"

"Nah, I thought Tricky was gonna blast his ass, ese...!" Disagreed El Tamal. "Que chingon!"

"I give it to this guy he didn't make a liar outta me at least...but it's like i thought. Strawberry faggots can't handle Corona chingasos."

Danny stared outside ot the window. His mouth dropped open at the sight of it. "You really had to do this shit in front of my canton, Tricky?" Demanded Eladora. "It aint just yours, man. Dreamer lives next door and she's got a hermanito you don't hear her complaining."

He then looked at Eladora as she glared at him. "Orale..." He turned to El Bruto. "Compa, we need to use your ride real quick. It's too hot around here to jack a ride."

"Fine, cabron..." Replied the tall cholo. "But you're helping me clean the fucker out! I don't wanna hear shit saying different."

"I don't give a fuck. Won't be the first time, won't be the last. Let's just fo find a garbage can to throw this rotten fruit out."

As he and the bigger Chicano tossed him in the trunk only once they got him in a big trash bag, he then said to Eladora, "You happy Encabronada? I took care of it. Myself. I aint no armchair leader."

"No, not really. I wish Big Raymond was out on the streets."

"Well he's not..." Snapped the 20 year old. "And I jumped you in and you took those hits like a g. Raymond would have probably said no to even putting you on. Until your parents got deported everybody had you down as the good girl just as much as Danny. I don't miss my parents at all. I should have peeled their caps years ago. But I know it aint the same for you. Danny's gonna be fine. He sees shit he shouldn't but you don't see a fusca or a spray can in his hand do you? You just see books. That mocoso devours books like nobody I ever seen."

As Eladora went ready to go in and check on Danny, La Panza came up to her. It was rumored that she was the leader of the Lady Dukes clique of Varrio Corona. "Encabronada, can I talk to you a second, esa?"

"What's up, Paula?"

Even though La Panza ran the Lady Dukes, she was down enough to hang with the vatos too and had been one of the few females who also jumped in males. "Mirate...you know my prima, Michelle right?"

"Si."

"And you remember how I told you that she was dating a mayate and me and the homeboys told her that wasn't cool around here?"

"Yeah..from what I remember, she did what you said but he kept coming back around so you, Dreamer, and Muñeca jumped his ass. Beat him to within an inch of his life and you hit him over the head with a beer bottle and he needed twenty seven stitches from his left jaw line to his eye."

"That wasn't me...that was Dreamer that hit him with the bottle I just stomped him out! You don't know! You weren't there."

"So?"

"So now, just cause Michelle has finally agreed to stay away from the fucker, and maybe he's moved on too, that don't mean he doesn't still probably want payback. When we left him leaking on the sidewalk, he screamed that he had cousins from 118th street."

"The fuck? So if he's primos with the Trannies what the fuck was he doing trying to get with a girl from Corona? If he was that hard up for Mexicana panochita he could have taken his ass to 18th street. They're at least allies with the Families."

"I don't know. It could be pushing a line. Or he could have ust been bullshitting about that knowing that we hate 118. I don't know. But in case he's not you mind coming with me in a few days to take him out? Or at least put him in a wheelchair and promise to do worse. Or we could just break every his arms and legs and his back and cut his tongue out to make sure even if he does have family from there he doesn't talk. But then for all that, we might as well just kill him."

"Sure but...you didn't come to me just for that, Panza. I know there's something else."

She sighed. "You're right. There is. A pesar de que está saliendo con alguien de nuestro color, ¡es de un maldito equipo de marcado! Una con la que tenemos carne. Realmente nos metimos con esos hijos de puta en el '94."

(Even though she's dating somebody our color, he's from a fucking tagging crew! One we got beef with. We really got into it with those motherfuckers back in '94. )

Eladora laughed. "She sure knows how to pick em."

"It's not fuckin funny, eh! She could have dated a fucker from somewhere else even that's kinda nearby. Those vatos in Davis? 155th? Que rico...they got some sexy pelones out there but a tagging crew. Chale. She's gonna fall in line or I'm gonna fuck her up."

"But she already did once before and she listened to you. Be grateful for that. She might not listen twice. And beating somebody up even if you win that doesn't always work. They'll just run away from you bruises and all. Papa he used to spank Danny a lot more when he was litle and a bit more misbehaved he went overboard and he was afraid him for like a year or two. Papa, he stopped beating him and left the discipline of him to mami while he paddled my ass when Ifucked up. It didn't do me much good either..."

She lifted her shirt up in the back near the bra strap to show she had a tattoo that said **Varrio Corona VIII.**

"Fuck that's firme..." Panza said touching it. "Yeah...married to the varrio. Anyway...did Tricky give the order on that shit with Michelle?"

"Funny thing he didn't really have to. I mean i was the first one to tell Michelle what was up and it wasn't even the homeboys that put hands on her at first when she didn't do what I said. It's ME who's gotta look out for her. But if that leva was connected to 118, it just means sh went from one enemy to another. Especially now that I know we really got pedo with this tagger crew...bad pedo, it's like...my auntie looked at me like a bully for that shit but it's for her own good. She can't be dating a rival during a war. She'd get caught up in the middle. Only she's trying to hold on to this vato from the taggers."

Eladora had a question. "Wait...that was two years ago when you guys fucked that fool up before. Why is he just now trying to come back on you? And that's only just what you heard, right? You fucked him up but you didnt fuck him up to lay him out in a coma or nothing."

"Cause he ended up doing like eighteen months for posession. That's why. But grudges get held long. We may have to kill him just cause we warned him before and the jail house has him thinking he's bad out here. We might not have to kill the vato from the tagger bitches we might just be able to scare him."

"Something tells me he'll be just as much of a problem if not more. Being a cousin to a gang is one thing being in it is another even if it is a tagger crew."

"Well it's nothing that can't wait I know your familia's coming back and all so you should get ready for them I'm just saying. I'm gonna see if I can talk her outta it these next two days. If I can't...I'll page you."

Before she went back to her house she stopped Shyboy. "Hey...so after all that even with finding out where Shadow is we aint going after them?"

The cholo's eyes were hidden under his fedora as usual. "Yeah cause he'll be cruising on Sunday. Besides, you might see him as just a hot head but he did show restraint."

"How?"

"After all that dirt we kicked up, he knew the juras are gonna be all over the calles looking for fuckers banging. And even if Shadow was in the heart of Fresa's hood right now kicking back with a cold one, the chances of us getting him and then making it back here without getting scooped up by C.R.A.S.H are slim to none, Eladora. We'd have been caught. We lucked out with that business owner before and that cop car."

"I get what you mean. No reason to push our luck."

He nodded. He then pulled out his wallet and handed her $600. "What's this for?"

"I'm sure Tricky will make sure you get paid later too he's a man of his word but in case he forgets cause he gets stoned a lot, you deserve something. It aint much but it's about half of what I got on me. And you got a lot of heart."

"For a girl?" She asked.

The mostly silent gangster shook his head with a half grin. "For a sixteen year old."

 _Blaine County_

Morgan got a call on his cell phone. "Hello?"

"It's Uncle Earl! We got a real problem! Get to my place in Vespucci. Some ASSHOLES broke in and tried to kill me and your aunt!"

"Who?!" Growled the AV member. "Who the fuck do you think, kid?! The Hot Rod Woods! Get over here and bring the other two boys! These little sons of bitches tried to kill us while we slept. Get your ass here pronto!"

"All right, Uncle Earl we'll be there ASAP. Just sit tight!"

"I sure as hell aint calling the cops..." As Earl went to hang up he bellowed, "WHERE YOU GOING, COCK SUCK?! YOU THINK YOU CAN CRAWL YOUR WAY OUTTA MY HOUSE?! BULLSHIT, BOY! YOU'RE ON MY PROPERTY LINE SO I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!" He then growled to his wife, "Baby doll! Get me the pliers! This boy needs to learn manners!"

* * *

This chapter wasn't as long as I would have liked but my birthday is in five days and my laptop crapped out on me and i wanted to hammer this out and get it done before long. Because Javier's story wasn't shown last chapter and for shortage of time I only hinted at what Morgan would be involved in, and I gave Javier two missions instead of one and as for Hayako the same is true for him and also Imala will have to wait till next chapter as well.

Mr Menti is the visual basis for Duke and Crooked is the visual basis for Casper.

María Conchita Alonso is the visual basis for Cora

Grand L Bush from Colors is the visual basis for Cartoon

Guero Stein is visually based on the white Norteno rapper Woodie.

Lil Ice is based on Prodigy from South Central Cartel

And the mentioned Highway is a nod to freeway Ricky Ross.

The thing with Panza and her cousin is based on a true story with a lennox13 gang leader who got her cousin to stop dating outsider her own people but then even though she won that argument she couldn't storp her cousin from dating a tagger from a crew called Hawthorne dynasty and they had a deadly rivalry because despite being taggers that crew had shooters.

Next chapter, Imala will try and find out more about the Four Dragons Robbery by working with a street hustler who frequents the casino, Hayako will have to survive the shootout with the Korean mob, Javier you can pretty much guess where that's going next. And Eladora will have to deal with her parents now being back and being shocked that their daughter is now a gang member and try as she might she might be able to so far have kept Dany from banging but she cant stop him from seeing things and sometimes seeing things is enough to get you desensitized to violence.

Hope you enjoyed.


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